


Pierian Spring

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: 2016 US Presidential Election, B61 Nuclear Weapon, BSAA, BSAA NAB, Counseling, Crisis of conscience, De-briefing, Delta Class submarine, Deuce of Hearts, F/M, Finnenson, Homecoming, M/M, Nivanfield, P8-Poseidon, President Obama - Freeform, Royal Air Force, Russian naval song - Spring will come, Sicily - Freeform, Sigonella, Strong Language, Support, U.S. Navy SEALs, US Navy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23154589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: Spring may grow into summer, but it has its roots in winter, and so that’s where we begin, continuing directly on from the final moments of Winter Bane.  The fourth and final part of my ‘Seasons’ tetralogy, which started with 'Summer Days, Summer Nights’ then ‘Autumn Leaves’ and ‘Winter Bane.’Why Pierian Spring?  The sacred spring was said to be near ancient Leivithra in Pieria, a region of ancient Macedonia, also the location of Mount Olympus, and believed to be the home and the seat of worship of Orpheus. The Muses "were said to have frolicked about the Pierian springs soon after their birth".  The spring is believed to be a fountain of knowledge that inspires whoever drinks from it.I liked the sound of the name, it’s pronounced like Piers, and as we know, Piers is always knowledgeable and full of good advice. :))
Relationships: Finn Macauley/Danny Svenson, Jill Valentine/Mike Lugano, Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield, Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller, Sherry Birkin/Tim Nivans
Kudos: 12





	1. Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

> Spring has always seemed to me to be the shortest of the four seasons. Squeezed between winter’s dreary darkness, and the long, languid days of summer. The brief, yet vital birth of life beyond the ice and before the fire. And that’s the feel I want to capture in this, the fourth and final part of my ‘Seasons’ tetralogy, Pierian Spring. Shorter, gentler, forward looking. Less action, more dialog.

“Dammit Captain, do you hear me? Release now!”

“Sorry TacNav, I wasn’t quite …” Chris’ voice trailed off.

“We, er, just encountered some turbulence.” finished Piers quickly.

“Never mind, it’s too late now! Abort! Abort! Special weapon release aborted. Fusing reset checks … special weapon is now safe.” The Tactical Navigator put down his checklist. “What the fuck happened up there Captain?”

“The Captain’s having some trouble holding her steady, whilst the bomb doors are open. It’s not like the simulator, alright?” Piers replied defensively whilst Chris sought to regain his composure.

Piers put his hand over his mic and glanced anxiously at Chris. “You Ok?”

Chris nodded briefly. “I’ll go round again Nav. Give me a steer please.”

“Initial steer input to your FCS. I’ll dial-up the bomb’s yield, from 30 to 50 …” called out the TacNav. “… It will give you more leeway, in case you have further trouble.” There was a hint of reproach in his voice. This wasn’t the time for rookie mistakes. The navigator’s fingers danced over the keypad of his console. “New attack course now plotted and input to your FCS. Just follow the steers please Captain.”

“Roger that.”

“Ok then, Special Weapon checks … Unlock firing buttons.”

“TacNav unlocked.”

“First Pilot Unlocked.”

“Set fusing.”

“Depth set five hundred feet … yield 50 … Fusing set. Weapon ready. Countdown on my mark Captain … Ten … nine …”

Piers could sense Chris was still wrestling with his conscience. As the count got to five his right hand was still gripping the control yoke.

“… three … two …”

Piers leant across and took Chris’ hand in his, then guided his thumb to the release button.

… one … release.”

The sleek, green painted B61 bomb spun once, then stabilized into a parabolic trajectory. Two hundred feet below the aircraft, its drogue parachute deployed and it began a slow vertical descent.

Chris came out of his trance, easing the throttles forward and turning the plane upwind. “Weapon away, closing bomb doors and commencing escape maneuver. Observers, close your anti-flash blinds.”

On board the _Cosmonaut Gagarin_ , the crew had heard the unmistakable sound of the Poseidon approaching, their strained faces instinctively looking upwards. No one spoke, but their nervous glances spoke volumes. They all knew the submarine had been detected.

“Thirty seconds to detonation …” the TacNav on board the aircraft announced calmly.

Jake’s enhanced hearing had picked up the sound of the approaching aircraft before anyone else, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“What’s that noise Kovic?”

“An aircraft Sir, low level … I think they’ve found us.”

“NO! _He’s_ found us! It’s him … that fucking jarhead!”

Second Officer Fyodor Fyodorov, locked in the holding cell of the submarine closed his eyes and prayed. Prayed for his shipmates, prayed it would be swift. At the same time Captain Pyotr Kovic switched on the ship-wide speaker and picked up the small hand-held microphone.

“Twenty …”

“Sailors of the Cosmonaut Gagarin, this is your Captain, join me …” He began to sing _’_ _Ne dlya menya pridet vesna’,_ The spring will come for me no more. It had been written long ago by another Black Sea Fleet Captain, and was a favorite with the crew.

“Spring shall come,

but not for me.

The River Don will spill,

but not for me.

A girl’s heart will beat,

full of excitement,

… but not for me.”

Hesitantly at first, the crew took up the refrain, but as the lyrics swelled so did their voices, until the song reverberated throughout the submarine. Pale faces gazed upwards in defiance, as tears fell down their cheeks.

“… Ten …”

 _Zampolit_ Danov didn’t join in the singing. He’d never been a religious man, but now he looked to Jake Muller for a miracle. So to, did General Stefan Nedovic. He was in shock; this wasn’t the way it was meant to have ended. It was meant to have been a glorious victory, oh so glorious.

“… Two … One … Zero.”

As the bomb exploded above them, just three hundred feet off the starboard bow, the immediate effect was the formation of a gigantic gas bubble, which displaced two million tons of water as it rose to the surface. The thin outer hull of the _Gagarin_ flexed, then buckled as it was hit by the initial pressure wave. This was followed by a second wave, reflecting off the seabed, just seconds later. Then the thicker inner pressure hull began to tear open. In a maelstrom of light, heat and radiation, the combined pressure fronts ripped the mighty vessel apart like tissue paper.

The fifteen remaining missiles ruptured, electrical short circuits ignited their liquid propellant. As they exploded, the combination of heat, nuclear radiation and pressure, vaporized the warheads, and their deadly contents.

The end for its crew was mercifully quick. Just microseconds for the rupture and disruption of all soft body tissue, then oblivion. All except for one person. Enhanced by the _Boћanstvo_ virus, Jake’s body withstood the crushing pressure a little longer. As the doorway into hell opened around him, Jake Muller found his true dominion. His face contorted by hatred and the knowledge of his failure, he screamed out his last word on earth.

“REDFIELD!!!”

****************************

There was a burst of interference on all comms channels as the initial EMP blast from the bomb hit, a few seconds later the plane bucked and rocked in the shockwave of the huge spray dome that had formed over the sea’s surface. From within the dome, a light shone, bright as day, illuminating the midnight sky like a false sun. As the dome expanded, plumes of gas and water vapor from the surfacing gas bubble shot upwards, forming a corona around the rising central column. Chris and Piers watched, momentarily transfixed by the scene, as the false dawn faded back to night. "Father Mateja’s prophecy. This is it.” said a shocked Piers.

“Huh?”

“Remember? He said something like 'I see you both, looking into a white light, bright, like the sun, with all the noise of the world around you. Then it is gone and you are looking into a cold, black silence. You are looking at hell, here, on Earth.”

“I wish he’d said something about pitch and yaw control! She’s bucking like a bronco in all this turbulence. Follow me through on the controls Piers!”

As they struggled to turn the aircraft and head up wind for safety, one of the plumes reached out, engulfing the escaping Poseidon. On board, the cabin lights flickered briefly then dimmed as Chris and Piers fought to maintain control in the plume’s vortex. It was like flying in the middle of a perfect thunderstorm; something from out of your worst nightmare. Suddenly, the P8 dipped its port wing and spiraled sickeningly to the left. Its No.1 engine had stopped, starved of air. Literally blown-out by the dense cloud of gas and water vapor.

The enormity of what he and Piers had just done had initially sent Chris’ mind into a spiral too. But all that stopped now as his survival instincts kicked in. They had to, for Piers, for his crew, and only lastly for himself. It was not so much a slap in the face as a punch to the gut, and suddenly he was back in the present, composed, focused, and awesome. He was Captain Redfield again.

“No.1 engine flame out.” Chris announced calmly over the intercom. “Strap-in please crew, we’re attempting an engine re-start … Co-pilot, engine in-flight start checklist for engine one.”

Piers started to scroll through the checklist as it appeared on the flight management computer screen. “Thrust lever 1, confirm close.”

“Thrust lever number 1.” Chris placed his hand on the lever.

Piers, in his role as co-pilot, was now monitoring Chris’ actions closely. “Confirm number 1.”

“Close.” Chris moved the Thrust Lever to the retard position.

“Engine start lever 1, confirm cutoff.” Piers put his hand on the engine start lever.

“Confirm number 1 …” Chris responded. Piers moved the Start Lever to Cutoff.

“… Start engine one, windmill start.” Piers moved the associated Start Switch to Flight.

“N2 is at 15% … Engine start lever 1 to idle detent …” As Piers moved the lever, Chris held his breath, waiting to see the turbine rpm spin up. As it did, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Engine one start is successful, engine is running normally. Crew, we have engine one back on line. Complete the checklist please Co-pilot … Oh, and well done!”

As Chris smiled grimly at his partner, there was a ripple of applause from a relieved crew in the rear of the aircraft.

“Thanks pilots. Maintain your speed and heading for another minute Captain, then I’ll give you a steer for a flyover of the plume. Try and get as much height out of her as you can in the time. We’ll drop some sonobuoys on the run in. See if we can hear anything; acoustics is overloaded right now. We’ll take some vertical photos of the surface disturbance too.

"Roger that TacNav, accepting your steer now …”

****************************

There had been no sense of elation on board the aircraft immediately after the explosion. They were all professionals, they were just doing their job. It was the physicality of the submarine they had destroyed; not its crew. The thing, not its contents. And whatever their own personal feelings, they had kept them silent. The loss and recovery of engine one had fully occupied their minds right at the moment they may have felt any feelings of exultation, or regret. It was only later, back on the ground at Sigonella, after the aircraft and its crew had been decontaminated and before their sortie debriefing, that Chris and Piers managed to speak privately together, albeit briefly.

“I, I would have done it you know Ace, hit that release button …”

“I know you would.” Piers smiled. He knew he’d just lied, but it was one of those 'good’ lies, well intentioned. Sometimes, when dealing with Chris Redfield, they were better than the truth.

“… It was just, Gah! Alex’s brother being on board, the innocent crew members.”

“Hey, you already have way too much on your conscience, I couldn’t let you bear that as well. You didn’t do it alone. We both did.”

“I’m sorry for Alex, and for Sherry I suppose … and her kid. Poor thing, Muller for a father …”

“That’s enough introspection for now Babe. It’s time for Captain Redfield once more, alright? Come on, we’d better get to the de-brief. I’m sure there’ll be lots of questions.”

“Yeah, I guess. You know, he was right about this too.”

“Who?”

“Your friend, the priest. I just remembered what else he said that day.”

“What was that?”

“That God would protect us, because we were chosen.”

“Perhaps he knew, when it was time, you would come through, like you always do. With God’s help.”

“And yours too Ace.” Chris smiled as he pulled Piers in for a quick furtive kiss. “Thanks.”

****************************

The sortie debrief was held in the secure underground briefing room. Admiral Ferguson was in attendance. He had three main priorities. Confirmation that the _Cosmonaut_ _Gagarin_ was destroyed, ensuring the use of a nuclear weapon remained secret, and disguising the true nature of the sortie. Outside of the sortie itself, he had other concerns, but they were presently under the control of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and, indeed, President Obama himself.

“Gentlemen, initial pos-flight analysis of the buoys you deployed after the explosion have found no evidence of a signature. We’re still looking at that in great depth, but your follow-on sortie has reported no contact. I believe we can safely assume that the submarine was destroyed.”

“About that Admiral. Since we’ve apparently just sunk a Delta III class submarine, pretty much on behalf of the US Navy, using a banned weapon, can we at least be told why?”

Mark Ferguson looked across to Chris. “Captain Redfield, can you field that one?”

Chris stood up and turned to face the crew. “I probably shouldn’t, but you deserve the truth. That submarine had effectively gone rogue, it was in the hands of an organization the BSAA knew was behind the wave of bioterrorism that has engulfed the world …”

“Like in Edonia?” asked one of the crew.

“… Yes, that was its source. Somehow, we don’t yet know the exact means, we believe that submarine was fitted with biological warheads. For use as the ultimate means of achieving their goals, a step change in the world order. As you know, they had already launched one missile. Its target was the BSAA’s base in North America. They would have been quite prepared to launch the remaining ones. There is no doubt about that.”

Chris paused, to martial his own thoughts. “Please, do not feel any guilt or personal responsibility for what has happened. Captain Nivans and I were tasked with curtailing these activities. With your help, we have achieved that, but the responsibility is ours alone. I can only say, with the utmost humility, that you have our undying gratitude. We did not choose this particular means of ending the conflict, but we couldn’t have done it without you. On behalf of the BSAA, Captain Nivans and I salute you.”

The RAF aircrew rose as one to return Chris and Piers’ salute. As they all sat down, a ripple of conversation went through the crew. Then the Tactical Navigator raised his hand.

“Admiral, that was a massive explosion. I imagine it will have been recorded around the world. What’s the cover story?”

“The Mediterranean is an active seismic area. It will be reported as an earthquake, approximately 6.3 on the Richter scale, close to the ocean bed in the basin of the Tyrrhenian Sea.”

“Sir, the Russians will know one of their subs is missing. And they’ll soon do maths. How de we explain that?”

“We don’t. There will be a total news blackout here. It’s an issue for the President, the JCS, your own Government, and their opposite numbers in Russia. Not the US Navy. Gentlemen, I cannot stress highly enough the need for absolute secrecy on your part. You will all be required to sign further security documentation at the end of this briefing. You will also, I’m afraid, be confined to base for the next week, to minimize external contact. _Any_ security breaches will result in the severest penalties. I hope I make myself clear?”

“Admiral, how do we log the sortie, if at all?”

“You will enter the sortie as a training exercise in your flying logbooks, using the aircraft’s fictitious RAF tail number, ZP801 …”

The Admiral closed his debriefing with one final announcement.

“… That just about wraps it up for now. There will be a counseling session for all of you this evening. Here, at 18:00 hours.” There was an audible groan from the crew.“

The Admiral put his hands up. "I know, I know, but this has come down from on high. Not withstanding the Captain’s words earlier, the feeling is you may develop issues of guilt, remorse, whatever, as a result of this operation. I can understand how you feel, but attendance is mandatory. I shall be there myself to make sure. Oh, and one last thing. I have a brief message from the President of the United States. 'On behalf of an unsuspecting world, thank you Gentlemen. Outstanding.’ I can only add my own meager thanks to his and Captain Redfield’s. Job well done! Now dismiss!”

****************************

When Chris and Piers returned to their quarters, they found Sherry and Tim waiting in the corridor outside. Tim’s face was streaked with camo paint. Sherry’s face was streaked with tears. She looked up as Chris approached.

“Tim said the bomb bay was empty when your plane returned. Is Jake … ?”

“Yes. I’m sorry Sherry. There was no other way.”

As Tim released her from his own embrace, Chris took her gently in his arms. “You lost him a long time ago kiddo. He wasn’t the person you loved before.”

“I know. I just hoped … perhaps … you know.” she sobbed. Her thin shoulders sagged as she buried her head in Chris’ chest and sobbed again.“

"That’s it, let it out. I got you, we’ve all got you.”

As they entered Chris’ cabin, Tim hugged his brother. “You Ok big bro?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“And what about the big guy?” Tim whispered in Piers’ ear.

“Uh, he’ll be fine too. I’m on his case.”

“And who looks after you?”

“We look after each other, we’re partners.”

“Hmm, I’m beginning to understand what that means now.”

“Tim? What are you saying?”

“I care for her bro, I care a lot …”

“I see. Listen, we need to talk.”

“There’s not much time. We’re heading back to base tomorrow.”

“Then it’ll have to be tonight, after our counseling.”

“Counseling!”

Piers rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s mandatory, Admiral’s orders!”

Tim looked over at Chris and Sherry. “Could I bring Sherry? I think she might need it, I’m no good at that stuff. I always had you.”

“I don’t see why not. 18:00, in the 'sink tank’. Afterwards, we can talk abut stuff.”

“Adam?”

“Er, yeah, if you want.”

“You haven’t mentioned him, not even once. You know something, don’t you?”

“I’m trying to protect you Tim, that’s all.”

“Old habits die hard eh? Thanks big bro, but it’s time I started looking after myself.”

“I’ll always have your six.”

“Hey, don’t make a SEAL cry!” Tim grinned, then turned to Chris. “Um, Sir?”

Chris kissed the top of Sherry’s head as he released his hold on her. “Remember, what I said kiddo. Anytime, anywhere.”

“Thanks Chris.” she snuffled. “I’m ready Tim. Let’s freshen up and find something to eat.”

“You sure?”

“I’m not, but someone else is …” she looked down at her swollen belly, then gave Tim a brief little smile. “… C'mon, Chris and Piers need their space too.”

As they walked away, Tim looked back over his shoulder. “See you tonight bro.”

Piers waived silently in return.

“What’s that about?” asked Chris.

“I invited Sherry to the counseling session, Tim thinks she might need it. And he and I can talk afterwards, about Adam.”

“Hmm, good idea Ace. Uh, I know we’re probably both tired, delayed shock and all that, yaddah, yaddah, but there’s one thing I need to do first before I crash out.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah, you get changed. I’ll go do it.”

“Alex is my friend, it might be better coming from me.”

“It was my doing, my responsibility.”

“You weren’t alone Babe.”

“I know, and thanks.’ Chris sighed. "Ok then, how 'bout we both go do it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Alex deserves that at least.”

“And the truth? Does he deserve that?”

“Yes, that too, despite our orders to the contrary. My decision Ace.”

“Mine too.”

“Yeah, teamwork. He’ll appreciate that … one day.”

****************************

The Visiting Officer’s Quarters were in the adjacent building. It didn’t take Chris and Piers long to find Alex and Goran’s cabins. A Master-at-Arms stood outside the adjacent rooms. He seemed to be expecting the visitors. After saluting, he indicated one door. “They’re both in here Captain, been spending most of their time together.”

“Thank you Chief. Have they had any visitors?”

“No one today Sir. That Agent Birkin visited yesterday, and their escorts of course; they’ve had some closely supervised base excursions. The BX, an aircraft visit. The kid went to see the dog section too.”

“That’s good to know, thanks Chief.” Chris knocked on the door. It was Goran who opened it. When he saw who it was, his serious face broke into a huge smile.

“Captain Chris, Captain Piers! Where have you been? Oh, it’s so good to see you!” He threw his arms around Chris and hugged him tightly whilst Alex came to the door and embraced Piers.

“Hey! Put me down kiddo!” Chris grinned.

As Goran reluctantly let Chris go, Alex put out his hand, it was shaking. “Chris?”

Chris caught the look of apprehension in the younger man’s eyes. He nodded slightly just before he returned Alex’s handshake. And at that point Alex Nedovic knew he would not be seeing his brother again. “Alex … I, Piers, we need to talk.”

Alex let out a long sigh. He’d been preparing himself for this, but even so, it still came as a shock. “Yes, I understand. I’ve been expecting it. Tell me what you can, please … ?”

Goran quickly picked up on the tension. “What is it? What has happened? Captain Piers?” Goran looked at his friend.

Piers put an arm around Goran’s shoulder and guided him towards the kitchenette. “Let’s make everyone a coffee Goran, huh? Chris and Alex need to talk. Let me explain …”

“… I understand Chris, you had no choice. Don’t blame yourself. You can’t carry everyone else’s burdens. Stefan made a choice, the wrong one. If I couldn’t make him see reason back in _Kaponik_ , no one could. Perhaps I could have tried harder, but I saw the bigger picture. They had to be stopped. He only saw glory, revenge on his peers. Thank you for telling me as soon as you could. Goran and I have been so worried about you both. The Americans have been kind, but we’ve been prisoners in a gilded cage. Now it’s over. Perhaps we can start afresh, my country, my family. And you too. It has been hard on you, this final act?”

“I’m lucky, I’ve got Piers … sorry Alex, I didn’t mean, you know, your shared past …”

“Don’t worry. He was always yours. I was … I was just a distraction.”

“You helped him when he was at his lowest. That’s not a distraction, that’s friendship.” Chris and Alex hugged, though a little awkwardly. “Um, listen, there’s a counseling session set up for early this evening. Piers and I will be there with the crew, Admirals orders. If it would help, I can get you in. Agent Birkin’s going.”

“Thanks Chris, but no. I need sometime alone first. Well, as alone as anyone can be with Goran around.”

“He’s a good kid, the best.”

“Yes, he is. I don’t understand how someone so young gets to be so wise.”

“Because he’s not screwed up by all the bullshit we have to deal with. I dread to think what effect we’ve had on him these last few weeks.”

“Hmm, maybe. So, what’s next? When can we go home?”

“Not for a week at least. We’re all confined to base, part of a news blackout. And the BSAA will want to debrief us all. You and Goran, Ivan and Niko too. That could take days knowing Command.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Could be in Edonia or London, could even be in the States.”

“Why not here?”

“Yeah, why not? I’ll speak to my Director. After this counseling thing let’s all meet up for dinner; if you feel up to it that is. I’ll make a reservation, a quiet corner where we can all talk.”

“Will we be allowed?”

“Hey, I’m Chris Redfield, I do what I want. Besides, who’s gonna’ stop us? We’ve just saved the world!”

****************************

At the counseling session there were three 'surgeries’ set up at individual tables. One for the base Chaplain, another for the Combat Stress Control Team, and a third for the Senior Medical Doctor. Admiral Ferguson was sat talking to the CSC team, whilst Sherry was talking to the Chaplain. Tim, for reasons of his own, was talking to the Doctor. The crew were sat around chatting. When Chris and Piers entered, they stood up and applauded. The head of the CSCT also stood, and tried to get everyone’s attention. It took three attempts before she was successful. “Ok everyone. We’re here to help, no time limits, one on one or by groups if you prefer, Ok?”

There was an embarrassing silence. She looked down at the list of names she was holding. “Um, Captain Redfield … ?” she scanned the room, she didn’t know who Captain Redfield was. “… Perhaps you’d like to start?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. If you start with me you’ll never finish. How 'bout my partner, Captain Nivans. He’s younger than me, doesn’t have so much baggage …” There was a ripple of laughter amongst the crew. “… Piers?”

“Um, I’ll take a rain check for now.”

The woman looked at the Admiral, then at her list again. “Er, Flight Lieutenant Davison?” she said desperately.

“Sorry, I’m C of E.” another laugh.

“Anyone? Please?”

Chris went up to her. “Hi …” he peered at her name badge. “… Cynthia. I’m Chris. Look, you’re going about this all wrong. This is a crew, a team, a family, alright?” Cynthia nodded. “Team’s do things together, not one at a time. And they support one another, within the team, that’s what gives them their strength.”

“You mean the whole is greater than the sum of its parts?”

Chris smiled. “You got it! Don’t deal with individuals. Do some sort of group thing, Ok? I’ll talk to them first, start things off, then you can pitch in, take things from there. Does that sound like a plan?” Cynthia nodded eagerly, any straw was worth clutching with the Admiral sat next to you. “Good, trust me, I’m good at plans.”

Chris turned back to the aircrew. “Ok guys, listen up. Change of plan. We’re gonna’ have a group session, something informal.”

“Oh, like a bit of a chit-chat?” suggested the Flight Lieutenant.

“Ha, yeah. You Brits like to chat, so go grab yourselves coffee, or a tea and a biscuit, and we’ll sit and chew the fat.”

They moved the chairs into a loose circle, placing the tables in the middle. Chris stood up to talk.

“My plan, so I guess I should kick off …” he made eye contact with all the crew.

“ … So, these two guy appear out of nowhere, and the next thing you know, they’re flying your plane and you’re dropping a bomb for them. And not just any bomb. THE bomb. So, before we start any counseling, I think you all deserve a bit of an explanation. And when you hear it, I think you’ll be better equipped to understand what we did, and why we did it. Then, if you’ve still got issues Cynthia here and her team will help you. But first of all, a bit of background. Piers and I work for an organization called the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. Bit of a mouthful. Sorry, my bad, I helped found it.” everyone laughed.

Chris winked at Piers, who blushed “So, what do we do, this BSAA? We fight monsters, the stuff of your worst nightmares, Zombies, bio organic weapons, BOWs we call them. But the real monsters are those people behind them. Trust me, I’ve met more than a few. And last night, what we did, might just have put an end to it, or at least seriously curtailed things. I had my own doubts about the method, but at the end of the day it wasn’t a bad thing we did. It was a good thing, very good. And we made a good team. So, you shouldn’t feel hung up, you should feel proud. Like I feel proud of you.” Chris looked directly at Piers and smiled. “How’m I doing Ace?”

“You don’t need my help yet.”

“See? Like I said, teamwork!” Everyone laughed. “Um, Ok, any questions so far?”

“Captain, can you tell us a little more about these BOWs? I mean, we see and hear things in the news, but it’s always vague. How are they created? Can you tell us?”

“Normally through direct contact with an engineered virus. Either in a lab or unintentionally. The missiles on that sub, we think that’s what they were fitted with, some sort of viral warhead, instead of the usual nuclear ones …”

At this point Admiral Ferguson wondered if he should interrupt on the grounds of security. But this strangely charismatic Captain was right; the crew deserved an explanation. Dammit, the whole world deserved to know. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Chris continued talking for another half hour, everyone listening with a respectful, attentive, silence. And during those thirty minutes, Chris made them appreciate the part they had played. When he finished, he sat down next to a smiling Piers, and to a round of rapturous applause.

Admiral Ferguson went over and shook Chris’ hand warmly. “I think that wraps up the need for any further counseling tonight Captain.”

“Phew … !” Chris grinned appreciatively. “… that’s great, Admiral. Captain Nivans and I have got a dinner reservation, and I’m starving!”


	2. Goodbye, Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too many preoccupations lead to a lacklustre meal, and later, missed goodbyes. Can a single bed and a sofa bring Chris and Piers back together? Then suddenly it’s time to say hello, and time for some frank discussions. It’s hard to tell the good guys from the bad ones.

It was a quiet meal. Alex was in a somber mood throughout, politely responding to, rather than starting conversation. And Goran had been so in awe of the company he was in, he'd hardly spoken a word in between mouthfuls. The two Edonians excused themselves soon after they'd finished eating. "I have some things I'd like to discuss with Goran, er, privately. And I'm sorry; I'm not very good company just now. I hope you don't mind?"

Piers hugged them both warmly. "We'll catch up tomorrow, I promise." Chris simply shook Alex's hand and nodded. Alex gave a faint smile in return. They understood each other's feelings perfectly. There was no need for words.

His earlier hunger pangs satisfied, Chris relaxed after the meal. For the time being, he'd had enough of playing 'Captain Redfield, BSAA'. His persona had served to rally the RAF crew's spirits during the counseling session. He was useful in a tight situation, and inspirational at the right moment. But since they'd become partners, Chris and Piers had found something better, more permanent than the bravado and bluster of an ephemeral character. Their ever growing love for one another. So, this evening, Chris chose to take a supporting role in the group's conversation. Time now for the listening, 'family' loving man. The man whose quiet, reassuring physical presence alone provided a safe refuge. Without the constant need for bold deeds and brave words.

Sherry was also happy to listen that night. Especially to Tim chatting with his elder brother. It gave her another insight into this serious young man who had suddenly exploded into her life, and at just the right moment. He showed the same concern and selflessness for her as his big brother did for Chris. She decided it was a learnt behavior, Tim hung on Piers' every word. Even with the legendary Chris Redfield sat at the table, it was clear whose hero Piers was.

"So how come _you_ don't have to stay here for a week?" demanded Piers; pouting as he looked at his brother.

"Heh, heh. We're Navy SEALS, we don't do what everyone else does."

Piers shook his head in mock resignation. "Where did I go wrong? First Chris, now you."

"Ha!" said a deep, warm voice next to them. "See what I have to put up with Sherry?"

"Piers always was the voice of your conscience." she replied quietly. "I remember when we met in Edonia City. When . . . Oh dear . . . " Sherry's bottom lip began to tremble.

Chris immediately put a protective arm around her. "Hey, chin up kiddo. I'll let you in on a secret. Having a Nivans in your life is a pretty damned good thing. You don't have to cook, clean, do the laundry . . ."

"Excuse me?" said a pair of fiery hazel eyes from across the table.

". . . Only problem is they got good hearing. Ha!"

Tim had also heard Sherry's voice falter, and reached out across the table. "You Ok Honey?"

Sherry smiled as she patted Tim's hand. "I am now. Um, will you excuse me? Just going to powder my nose."

The three men all stood up as Sherry went to leave, and she managed to giggle. She wasn't used to being treated like a lady. And it put another little smile on her face. She needed those right now.

With Sherry gone, Tim took the opportunity to talk to Piers. "So big bro, Adam? You said you had news. What is it? "

Piers hesitated, unsure what to say.

"C'mon bro. This isn't about clearance levels, it's about family, our brother. Right?"

"Yeah, you're right . . ." Piers let out a long sigh. ". . . He was there, in Edonia."

"You saw him? How was he?"

"No, not directly. It's more complicated. He was seen arriving, by an Edonian agent. I, I only sensed him, a couple of times."

"That's good enough for me. You always had the best senses out of the three of us. So what happened?"

Piers looked to Chris for support and he nodded encouragingly. Piers sucked his breath in, trying to phrase his next words carefully in his mind.

"He was with Muller, Tim. And . . . and he shot me."

"WHAT! You gotta be kidding me!"

Piers glanced around in alarm. "Shh, keep it down Tim. It was only a graze . . ." he lied. ". . . But I know it was him."

"Where is he now? I take it he wasn't on that Russki sub?"

"No, he didn't board it. But here's the weird thing. Remember that lighter I gave him, when he joined up . . . "

"The gold one?"

". . . Yeah. He left it, on an island in the Adriatic. Chris thinks he left it behind, as a sign, that he was alive and safe."

"Well that's good. It means he's Ok."

"But keeping very bad company. We got there about an hour or so behind him, but he'd already gone."

"Have you told Ma?"

"No, and I'm not going to."

"But . . . surely?"

"No Tim! And don't you either. Not until I've got to the bottom of it. Mom would worry herself sick."

"She's already worried bro."

"I know, but this . . . it would make a bad situation worse. Leave it with me Tim. Promise?" pleaded Piers.

"Of course you dope. You're my big brother, I trust you. You've always been my hero . . ." Tim grinned. ". . . There, I said it."

"Thanks, that means a lot." Piers blushed.

"Damn right!" joined in Chris, who'd been listening closely. "Look, forget Adam for the time being. There's nothing more to be gained for now. Just painful conjecture. Capiche?" the two brothers nodded sadly in resignation. Chris decided it was better to change the subject. "Good. Now, Tim, it's your last night. You all packed?"

"Of course Captain. I pretty much live out of my Kelty. We all do."

"Your what?"

"The SEALs preferred Military Assault Pack, the Kelty MAP 3500. They're really cool."

"What happened to Alice packs?"

"Oh, those. They're only used for Tadpole training now. And some of the more, er, senior guys still use them."

"Make me feel old, why don't you? Ha!" Chris punched Tim in the arm. "Only kidding. So, getting back to your last night, what's it gonna' be, beer or Sherry?"

"Um, Sherry, if you don't mind Captain. She shouldn't be alone right now."

"Good man! And don't worry, we'll still have her six after you've gone."

"Thank you Sir."

Just then Sherry waddled back from the powder room, she looked weary. "I think I'm going to turn in. Baby's getting really heavy."

"Walk you home Ma'am?" Tim said eagerly as he stood.

"Stay and have a drink with Chris and Piers if you want."

"No, we're going too. C'mon Babe. It's been a very long, very strange, day." said Piers getting up.

"Hmm, amen to that. I got the feeling there'll be more. Oh look, right on cue, here comes our friendly Admiral."

"I don't believe it!" Piers rolled his eyes. "What does he want now?"

"Ah, Miss Birkin, Gentlemen." the Admiral bowed politely. "I'm glad I've caught you. I'm going back to Naples tomorrow."

"Then have a nice trip Admiral. Think of us, stuck here for another week, twiddling our thumbs." Chris grimaced.

"But that's just it, you won't be Captain. Not now. Your Director is coming."

"Jill Valentine?"

"Who? No, Director Dee. He's en-route as we speak. He'll be here midday tomorrow. Taking over my office and quarters. Hot bunking as we say in the Navy. A Mr Lugano will be with him too, so I understand."

"Dee? But I thought he was in hospital?"

"That's all I know Captain, other than he intends to personally conduct your BSAA mission debrief here. Uh, Miss Birkin, he specifically requested that you remain also."

"Thank you Admiral, I was expecting that."

"Oh, there will also be some other attendees, coming in from Edonia. Quite the party, eh? A Mr Ivan Slotic and a Mr Nikolayavič. Er, is he Russian?" enquired the Admiral cautiously.

"Only half." replied Piers. "He's on our side."

"Hmm, I hope so. They'll have to be escorted everywhere."

"Hey, if it was good enough for us, it's good enough for them." Chris said, only partly in jest, as he fixed the Admiral with a hard stare.

"Yes, sorry about that. I'll speak to the Master at Arms about them, arrange some new escorts. Anyway, good luck all of you. And thank you once again." The Admiral nodded briefly, then left, closely followed by his Executive Officer.

Chris looked perplexed as he scratched his head.

"Looks like Dee thought it was a good idea to have the debrief here too." Piers said to him.

"Yeah, great minds think alike." Chris muttered "I didn't expect Dee to come himself though."

"Would you rather Colonel Valentine conducted the debrief then?" asked Piers, arching one latte eyebrow.

"Would you?" parried Chris.

****************************

"I'd been expecting Dee to arrive." Sherry said as she and Tim walked back arm in arm to their cabins. "Remember, I told you I'm currently on secondment to the BSAA?"

"Yeah, that's rad."

"He offered to let me have the baby at their Williamsport base, I'll probably go back when he does. It's due soon, three weeks."

"Why there?"

"Because it's safe, from prying eyes, from the press, from the politicians."

"But you could go to any military hospital in Washington. You're DSO."

"There's other reasons too. The baby . . . my baby, might be, you know, _special_."

"Because of him, Muller?"

"Yes, and because of me too. Things that happened in my past . . . it's complicated. I should tell you . . ."

"It doesn't matter, any of it. I don't need to know. It's the here and now that's important. And the future, not the past, whatever it was. You need a fresh start Honey. You and your baby."

"With you?"

"If you want me."

"What about your career? You've only just started . . ."

"We'll work around it. SEALs can get married you know. After they get permission."

"I don't know Tim. Marriage? There's such a lot to think about."

"No pressure. Let's just take it one step at a time, calmly, logically. Review things as we go."

"You sound so like Piers."

"He's had more influence on me than anyone. Even Ma, and certainly Pa! I can't help but be like him, I wouldn't want to be like anyone else."

"No, I can see that. And it's a good thing, not a bad one. He's been so good for Christopher, more than you know."

"I guess. So, what do you think? I'm due some shore leave. I could try and be there for the birth?"

"Yes, I'd like that, a lot."

"Great! Consider it done. Um, well, here we are ma'am. Outside your cabin door. I guess this is where we say goodbye."

"Not just yet Tim. Would you like to come in for a coffee . . . please?

****************************

"You were quiet tonight Babe, apart from giving the Admiral a hard time that is."

"You know what they say, if you can't take a joke, you shouldn't join up. I was just happy to stay in the background. Just being supportive, for Sherry and Alex."

"Hmm, you sure you're Ok? I thought you might be a bit . . . you know?"

"No, I'm good. I got you. Besides, I worked most of it out earlier, whilst giving that talk at the counseling session."

"It was inspirational."

"Nah, it was mostly bull."

"They didn't think so, and neither did I. You must have believed in what you were saying, surely?"

"Oh sure, it's just the way it was presented, and who by."

"He's good at spur of the moment stuff, so are you. You have a lot in common."

"Ha! You mean I shouldn't get too introspective?"

"A wise man once told me; if it ain't broken, don't fix it."

"Piers Nivans, I love you."

"I wish!"

"Huh?"

"Well, you may not have noticed, since you take up most of the room, but I barely fit in this bed. There's no room to, um, maneuver."

"Ahh, I see what you mean. Hmm, we could bring your bed in here."

"Only if we move everything else out first." Piers eyes scanned the room. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?"

"I gotta plan."

"Great, I like plans."

"Then you'll love this one. If we pull that sofa over, put it here right next to the bed . . ."

"And then lie crossways . . ."

". . . a double bed!"

". . . and double the fun!"

****************************

Early the next morning, Piers quietly and carefully extricated himself from Chris' slumbering embrace, dressed quickly, and made his way speedily to the aircraft pan. He wanted to say goodbye to Tim. But Navy SEALs never do anything that's expected. And their aircraft was already taxiing towards the runway by the time Piers arrived.

"Take care of yourself little bro, stay frosty."

Piers but his hands in his jacket pocket and hunched his shoulders against the wind. It must have been the early morning cold, but Piers' hazel eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and a deep, heart rending sadness as he watched the C-130 lift off and climb away. He wiped away one tear, then another.

"Gah! Suck it up Nivans!"

Unseen by Piers, a pale, round face, framed by cropped blonde hair, also looked out at the departing aircraft. From a top-floor window, a thin hand waived a silent farewell. Then it too, wiped away salt tears from pallid cheeks . . .

"Goodbye Tim, see you soon."

****************************

The nameplate on the varnished oak door said 'Admiral Mark E. Ferguson III - COMUSNAVEUR, COMUSNAVAF & COMJFC'. Below it, a smaller plate read 'Captain Steven McCole - Executive Officer.' There was hardly any room for anything, or anyone, else. Director Dee could have had it changed if he'd so wished, if he'd pushed protocol. The Admiral had now vacated his office and returned to his principle base in Naples. But Dee realized it was better left as it was. No one would dare disturb the Admiral's office, whether he was in residence or not. Especially with his own aide, the burly Mike Lugano, faithfully on guard as ever, in the outer office.

However, the former Marine would far rather have been back in Washington, alongside Jill Valentine. She was still 'temporary' Director NAB, and now, his partner. And he would far rather that Dee had remained in Bethesda Naval Hospital. Receiving the medical care and attention he so rightly needed. But Dee had had other ideas. He would have travelled to Sicily on his own, such was his desire to see Chris and Piers, his 'Sword and Shield'. Mike's loyalty was torn; and in the end it was Jill herself who'd had to make his mind up for him the day before . . .

"Go with him Mike. Sword and Shield was his baby, he deserves it. Besides, he's determined to go. Even if it does kill him. You know that."

"It probably will! I hate the idea of him going alone; but you need me here."

"I'll cope, I'm a big girl now, or hadn't you noticed?" Jill permitted herself a rare laugh.

"I had. You've grown into the role this past month. You've been lit."

"With your help Mike. You'll only be gone for a week. Besides, we're seeing the first signs that things are slowing down. The worldwide attacks on the BSAA are getting more sporadic. And we're not seeing the resupply of BOWs like we did before. I don't want to tempt fate, but the tide seems to be gradually changing."

"Ok, sweetheart, if you're really sure?"

"Hey! You're not going soft on me are you Marine?"

"Fuck outta here!"

Jill grinned. "Just checking. Go. Just come back soon. Alright?"

Mike pulled her in close. "You deserve a kiss Madam Director. Mwah!"

"Mmm, only one?"

****************************

Back in the present, Dee looked up from the files now spread across the Admiral's imposing desk and smiled. He was dressed in his trademark white linen suit, somewhat crumpled now after his flight. It matched his wrinkled, age-mottled skin, and accentuated his pale coloring. But his face was as alert ever; his large domed forehead merely hinting at the remarkable brain that lay beneath the myriad worry lines. There was a confident knock on his door.

"It's your two boys, Boss." Mike smiled as he gestured Chris and Piers into the inner sanctum." He would never admit it to them, but he was secretly pleased to see them both again. Glad that they had survived their mission in Edonia safely. Glad that they had succeeded. And of course, glad that Dee had lived to see it.

"Dear boys, dear boys, come in, come in. Welcome!" Dee beamed at them, his usually cold grey eyes now full of mischief. "Well, well, we have set the cat among the pigeons, and no mistake. Ha, ha! "

This was a very different Director from the one Chris and Piers had last seen in Washington. He was clearly reveling in the growing political aftershocks from Operation Sword and Shield. Secure in the knowledge that no less a personage than the President of the United States had his six.

"Hmm, looks to me like the cat got the cream rather than the pigeons."

"Oh Christopher! Ha, ha! Permit me a moment’s satisfaction."

"Ok, I guess you deserve it you old dog. But are you sure this isn't gonna' be a case of the condemned men eating a hearty breakfast before they're hanged?"

"Men?"

"Me and Piers."

"No, you're identities will remain hidden, trust me . . ."

"I sense a 'But' coming."

". . . However, I think it prudent that you both remain here on base. For a further week or so."

"What!" Chris exploded incredulously. "Dee, Piers and I been in the field for God knows how long. We've been shot, beaten up, crashed in helicopters, and nearly drowned. And then, the icing on the cake, been asked, by you, to use a WMD. You know how I feel about them. Nuclear, thermobaric, sterilization operations, whatever. They're all the same, a last resort. And don't tell me the means justify the ends, I know that. It doesn't mean I have to like it . . ."

"Why Christopher! Such . . ."

". . . and don't interrupt me! We need to be visible, back home at Williamsport. Mary Ellis needs support, our boys need support, and the teams need re-building. God knows what we're going to find . . . What are we going to find? Tell me . . . no, wait, don't!" Chris finished his rant.

"That's it. Good, good. Get it out of your system dear boy. Any more? No? What about you young Piers? Anything to add? Or has Christopher spoken for you both?"

"Chris is right Dee. We need to start picking up the pieces back at base."

"Yes, you're both right, of course you are. But all in good time. Don't you think you deserve a period of respite, however brief?"

"Other's deserve it more Dee. Yourself included, you should be back in hospital."

"What, and miss this moment of triumph? Miss sharing it with my two best agents? Would you deny an old man that? Hmm?"

Chris scratched the back of his thick neck ruefully. "Well, if you're going to put it like that . . ."

"I do! Michael, please assist me to my feet."

"Boss."

"A welcome hug Christopher? Piers? Not, er, too tight."

Chris embraced Dee warmly as he whispered in his ear. "Hello, you sly old fox, I fall for that sob-story every time. Ha!"

"Welcome back Christopher, my _dearest_ servant. I am forever in your debt." Dee murmured in return.

****************************

"So what's new Dee? Is Jill still managing the store?"

"Yes, and very capably, as you might expect. Gillian's administrative skills are excellent, as is her grasp of the bigger world picture. The world outside the NAB."

'That's my Jill. Always had the smarts."

"You've got smarts too Chris." said Piers protectively.

"Hmm, not necessarily the same ones dear boy." Dee grinned at them both. "But enough banter. Let me quickly bring you both up to speed.." Dee sat down.

"Behind closed doors, the UN Security Council is already up in arms. The Russians and the Chinese both want to know how come we still had a nuclear depth bomb capability, given they were banned in 1992. The Russians also want reparations for the loss of their nuclear submarine. The French are screaming about how we've polluted the Mediterranean. The Italians won't be far behind. Only the Brits are keeping their stiff upper lips firmly closed. It was one of their aircraft involved after all, despite flying from an American base in Italy."

"The usual shit then? Whose dealing with it?"

"The President. He's doing his utmost to keep the BSAA out of it. It would be damaging, possibly fatal, to the NAB if word got out."

"Fatal!"

"The President's second term will soon be ending. It is not clear if any of the his potential successors will look upon the NAB with the same fondness. A time of change is coming dear boys. But there are specific some things that must remain steadfast."

"What?"

"You, both of you."

"The NAB isn't just about me and Piers Dee."

"Oh, but it is. Piers realizes it, even if you don't. I am I right dear boy?"

"Chris is. He's always been important."

"To you Ace perhaps."

"And to others! Merah, Sheva, Colonel Valentine . . ." Piers said with feeling.

"Yeah, but . . ." Christopher blushed.

"Precisely! And who did they entrust Christopher's continued safety to?" enquired Dee. "To you, Piers, every time."

It was Piers turn to blush as Dee carried on. "I've read the reports." He picked up a file from the desk to emphasize his point. "You see? You both remain necessary. Now, over the next few days, I will conduct my personal debrief of Operation Sword and Shield, behind closed doors. And I will compile the subsequent report. The full version will only go to one other person, the President. A censored version may ultimately be released to the Bioterrorism Assessment Committee; although that has yet to be decided. But before we begin in earnest. I must ask you both one question."

"Shoot." said Chris, relaxing back into his chair.

"Are you still a team?"

Chris looked on in amazement, so Piers responded first.

"We, um, had some ups and downs in Edonia. But we worked through them."

"And they were?"

"My concerns over my brother Adam, and getting used to being Chris' equal. I'm not sure if being promoted helped. Both caused some conflict. I'm sorry."

"And I should have been more understanding. I know I got goal oriented at times. I'm sorry too." Added Chris, recovering himself.

So you're both sorry?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's all very reassuring. What I actually meant was, are you both still partners? In the physical sense?"

"Dee?"

"We've, um, been in the field."

"Tch! Do you still love one another? It's a simple question."

"Yes Dee, never stronger."

"Believe it!"

"Good, good. Then we might have a chance."

"A chance? Chance for what? You're being unusually mysterious Dee, even for you."

"You both believe I have engineered your personal relationship in the past?"

"More like facilitated I'd say. Piers always had feelings."

"Chris, please!"

"It's true Ace. I only showed up late to the party. Almost _too_ late!"

"Facilitated, yes, that's a much better word, especially coming from you dear Christopher. That's what I love, have always loved. Your directness, your confidence. And you Piers, with your perception and restraint. Please don't think me sentimental, but I love you both dearly. Like the sons I never had. I had my chance once, many, many years ago. But I put career, vanity, before happiness. I don't often have regrets, but in retrospect, I can see it was a mistake. So you two are my surrogates if you will. Please stay together, for my sake, as well as the BSAA's. I may have further plans for the two of you."

"Usually I like plans, but right now I'm not so sure. What kind of plans Dee? Care to share them?

"Ah, always to the point dear Christopher. I have always admired that."

"Yes, you said. But you didn't answer my question. What plans?"

"Quite right, my disobedient servant. I didn't. They are at an early stage. Now you are returned safely from operations, they can begin in earnest."

"You mean you were waiting to see if we came back?"

"Piers, dear boy, you wound me! Ha, ha, ha . . . cough, cough!"

"And just when are these plans of yours going to be finalized?"

"That depends entirely on how correct my thinking has been up to now. That removing the head would kill the beast. There is an old Edonian saying. Do not measure the length of the wolf until you know it is dead."

"So you're saying we may have failed?"

"No, of course not. But we have yet to see all the hoped for results. Some definitely, but not all. Dear Gillian is monitoring the situation closely, as are her fellow Directors around the world. The next few days will be crucial. When the wolf realizes its head is missing."

"Well, we're not aware of any surviving deputy. Nedovic died with him, and Girot was killed back in Majdabor."

"Yes, Agent Birkin's input corroborates the lack of deputies. Thankfully, Muller's paranoia seems to have limited his inner circle to a very few indeed."

"We didn't have time to investigate the structure of the Volfpack. Alex Nedovic probably has a better handle on that."

"Yes, probably. How is he taking the loss of his brother by the way?"

"Quietly . . ." answered Piers. "I kinda' sympathize."

"Hmm, quite so. Well, that was an excellent good start. Now, if you will excuse me, I am feeling rather tired. I shall speak with you later in the day Christopher."

"Of course Dee."

But as Chris and Piers both stood up to leave, Dee motioned Piers to remain seated. "Piers, please stay a moment dear boy."

****************************

As Piers sat back down, it was Chris who looked questioningly at the Director. "Dee?"

The Director smiled, but there was a warning look in his eyes that said he was not to be questioned. "Don't worry Christopher, I won't keep him long."

Dee waited until Chris was out of the room before he spoke to Piers, and he came straight to the point. "You had to do it for him, didn't you?"

"Do what?" Piers replied cautiously. He was on alert now, and could already feel himself coloring up.

"Oh Piers, always so loyal. Release the weapon I mean."

"No!"

"Please don't lie to me dear boy."

"No, we both did it. Sword and Shield together. Like you asked . . ." Piers answered hotly, and found he couldn't resist adding a jibe. ". . . Like you always planned

"Of course my sparky young Captain, if you say so."

Dee was silent for a while, his eyes may have been rheumy, but they bored into Piers' like lasers, probing, searching, until they found what he was looking for. The steel beneath that oh so pretty face.

"You're far harder than he is . . ."

Piers had held Dee's gaze, but he hadn't expected that. "What!"

" . . . Oh yes. I've always known it. You're young, you don't have his experiences, his damaging past."

"No! Chris is so much . . ."

Dee shook his head. "Piers, Piers . . . When I named you both Sword and Shield, _you_ , my dear boy, immediately assumed the role of Shield, defending your dear Captain. That was _your_ interpretation, not mine. It's not a fault, Christopher is magnificent. I take nothing away from his abilities. But you also have yours, even if you prefer not to see them yourself sometimes. Remember that, in the months and years that lie ahead."

"What do you mean, ahead?"

"This isn't the end Piers, far from it. There is another old Edonian saying. If you call the wolf, you invite the pack."

"But he _is_ dead, Muller."

"Yes, but now his organization, this _Volfpack_ , must be destroyed. Utterly, root and branch. Only then will I declare the wolf to be dead."

"I understand, the fight goes on."

"For now, but the beast is mortally wounded. Without its head, I expect it to wither and die. It's just a question of time . . ." Dee closed his eyes. ". . . Time, always my oldest foe . . . I must find a substitute."

"Dee?"

The Director opened his eyes suddenly, and for a brief moment, there was a look of pain in them. "Ah, please forgive me Piers, I was day dreaming. The journey has not been an easy one for this pathetic body of mine. Now, we move on to your brother, Adam. You saw him?"

"No, not really, not face to face. But I knew it was him. I sensed his presence, even before he, before . . ." Piers fell silent.

"Quite, quite. And how is your leg?"

"The flesh and muscle is healing. What I suspect is the bone, isn't."

"And your heart?"

Piers looked at Dee blankly.

"I'm sorry, I was forgetting. You lead with your head, not your heart. What do you _think?_ "

"To be honest Sir, I don't know what to think. Any sniper worth his salt would have made the shot."

"Precisely! So he intended to miss."

"You think so? I've been racking my brains, looking for an explanation. He killed that politician. That was intentional, surely?"

"Hmm, Jodi Nadisc. I've read Ivan Slotic's reports. Colorful, but refreshingly honest for all that. No, I think it was more in the nature of a test . . ."

"A test!"

". . . Oh, a convenient one for Muller no doubt. Allowing him to exert pressure on a reluctant government. But yes, a test. He's your brother Piers, Muller was bound to be suspicious. A deserter from the Army, moves straight into the Family, to become their rising star assassin. What is there not to be suspicious about?"

"The Family? You mentioned that before, back in Washington. Do you know something concrete then?"

"Only that he was collected from Lastovo in a Company helicopter."

"Where is he now?"

"We don't know. He is no longer our concern. Whatever his role, he has played it."

"He's my concern! And the rest of my family."

"You tell them nothing Piers."

"He's a murderer!"

"We all have to do dreadful things in this business. Sometimes the need of the many . . ."

" . . . outweigh the needs of the few. Yes, I'm familiar with the concept."

"Ah, so that was the argument you used, with Christopher. Good, very good. He would have remembered Gillian and Wesker no doubt."

"That's irrelevant! Chris did what he had to, of his own free will. I didn't force him, I didn't manipulate him."

"Of course not dear boy, of course not. But perhaps Adam didn't have the benefit of the same wise counsel, hmm? Do not be swift to judge your brother Piers, not yet."

"Then I'll make it my business to find out."

"No, no personal quest either. Do you understand me?"

"But my mother, my family. Surely they deserve to know . . ."

"Piers! I must insist."

"Then I'll resign."

"Tch, after all we have just said. Now is not the time to go with your heart. Think, man, think! Besides, your resignation would not be accepted. Leave any enquiries to me." Dee's eyes suddenly turned cold. "That's an order Captain. If my reading of the situation is correct, you will be in a position to make enquiries yourself one day. But not now, not just yet."

"When then?"

"Always pushing, always asking. Excellent. A year perhaps . . . cough, cough . . ." Dee reached for his inhaler. Puff, puff. "Excuse me, our little chat must come to an end. Please ask Michael to come in on your way out dear boy, I suddenly feel rather old, and rather tired."

Piers suspected Dee was faking, but he knew better than to continue the argument. In any case, he wanted to find Chris, and quickly. He didn't want him to be alone with his thoughts any longer than was necessary right now. Dee was wrong, he _was_ Christopher's shield. He always had been, and he always would be.

****************************

Chris was waiting in the outer office. Straightaway he saw how flushed Piers was looking.

"Piers! Are you Ok?"

"I'm fine, all the better for seeing you."

"Can I ask? What did Dee want?"

"Oh, it was about Adam mainly, the usual mind games. Sometimes I'm not sure who's side the Director is on."

"Ours, the good guys, always. The trouble is, he's been a diplomat, a politician, so long. I think the distinction gets blurred at his level. That's what I was meant to teach you, the dark arts, last summer, remember?"

"I remember I acted like a spoilt brat, I was more concerned about my grandiose plans for Alpha at the time."

"Well, I was no better, stupid tongue-tied Redfield. I used to find it hard to talk to you about work, at work. And I'd always tried to keep you out of the politics."

"Why?"

"Because I was frightened. I thought you might change, or worse, leave. I couldn't have stood that. I still couldn't.'

"Not gonna' happen."

"I know that now. You've helped me, see, we're talking right now, seriously, without two egos competing, without all the bull."

"We've had our moments."

"Yeah, but we've got through them, and we're stronger for it. Don't you agree?"

"Of course . . . mwah."

"What was that for?"

"I've got my reasons."

"Care to explain?"

"Well, a few minutes ago, I was on the point of resigning . . ."

"What! What happened to my Mr Cool?"

"I lost it, briefly. . . but you just reminded me why I have to stay . . ."

"Oh Piers! Mwah, mwah!"

". . . plus Dee said he'd refuse it."

"Ha, why am I not surprised? But at least it proves my point. He is a good guy."


	3. Aches, Pains and Hurricanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris feels the pain, Piers takes the strain. Then Hurricane Ivan touches down on the US Navy base in Sigonella, Sicily. It’s the breath of fresh air everyone needs before BSAA NAB Director, Dee, commences his debrief of Operation Sword and Shield. Meanwhile young Goran has a big decision to make. Can his hero help him, can he help himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been fun writing the return of Ivan Slotic, he’s such a larger than life character! I’ve missed him.

“Argh, goddammit!” Chris winced as Piers got back into the bed.

“Sorry Babe, just trying to give you a bit more room.”

“No, I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault Ace. I’ve got muscle cramp, and I ache … everywhere.”

“It’s all the bruising coming out after your fight with him …” Piers smiled sympathetically. “… it was bound to happen.” Piers didn’t like to mention ‘him’ by name. He figured the fewer the associations now, the fewer the triggers there would be for Chris later.

“But it’s over a week now!” Chris moaned, cautiously stretching his large frame.

“Yeah, but you’re ol … um, things take long … err …”

“Grrr!”

“Good Grrr or bad Grrr?”

“Bad. Very bad! Where have you been anyway?”

“I went to say goodbye to Tim, but he’d already left.”

“Typical sneaky SEAL trick. Love 'em and leave 'em. He’s learning fast.”

“Chris!”

“Only joking. He seemed quite smitten with Sherry.”

“Hmm.”

“You sound as if you don’t approve?”

“He’s much younger than her.”

“So? You’re far younger than I am!”

“Alright then. How about he’s still got his career in-front of him?”

“So have you. Not getting old and slow like me. Ha, ha … Ouch! My ribs!”

“Don’t make jokes then! Besides, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just …”

“Him?”

“Pardon?”

“He who must not be named. Muller. I know you don’t like saying it, right?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Ok, but at least give Tim and Sherry a chance Piers! The kid deserves a father.”

“I know. You’re right of course. I’m being selfish, it’s not my decision to make.”

“Good boy.” Chris ruffled Piers’ hair.

“You know, your very wise for a bear sometimes. Come here, let me give you a …”

“Ouch! Oww, Oww!”

“Oops, sorry, sorry.”

“Gah! I need a long soak in a hot bath.”

“Hmm, we can’t join our showers together like this bed and sofa. Let me think … Alright, got it!”

“Got what? Don’t tell me your hiding a bath in one of your numerous combat vest pockets?”

“No, I think it would show.”

“What, like this cocky little guy?” Chris tugged at Piers’ shorts.

“Behave Bear! Think about breakfast.”

“Hmm, sausages! So, what about this bath?”

“The Gym.”

“Huh? I’m not sure a gym session is quite the relief I’m looking for right now.”

“No, I mean the gym will have a sauna. You can relax in there.”

“You mean get all hot and sweaty?”

“Yes.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? So would he.” Chris gave Piers’ shorts another tug. “You know, we could get all hot and sweaty just by staying here in bed. Grrr.”

“Down Bear! Ivan and Niko are due in later today. Dee’s gonna start his inquisition tomorrow, so breakfast, then sauna …”

“ … then lunch, then meet and greet, then bar, then dinner followed by cramped sex. Sounds like a plan.”

“And you like those! C'mon, let’s shower first, then go and find the others.”

****************************

In the chow hall, Sherry sensibly declined the offer of a sauna. “Er, I _am_ pregnant, if you hadn’t noticed boys. I've enough hot flushes to cope with as it is. Besides, I’ve already got a morning appointment.”

“Dee?”

“No. The base Obstetrician.”

“You Ok kiddo?” Chris gave her his best 'concerned father’ look.

“Thanks. I’m fine, but Tim insisted. He made the appointment for me at last night’s counseling session. He’s so sweet. And he’s going to try and get shore leave during baby’s birth.”

“Great!” said Piers, without much enthusiasm.“

"Isn’t he just?” Sherry replied, apparently unaware of Piers’ sarcasm. “He’s so like you Piers, he idolizes you … I _know_ you’d do the exact same thing in his situation.”

Piers blushed with a mixture of shame and embarrassment. A large paw landed on his shoulder. “Got you there Ace, ha, ha!”

“See you lunchtime then …” said Sherry as she went to leave. “… One o'clock?”

“It’s a date Kiddo.” Chris waived goodbye, then turned and grinned at Goran. “You ready then partner?”

“On your mark, Captain.”

Chris counted down with finger signals. “Three … two … one … Go!”

They both leapt up and went in search of yet more pancakes and more danish pastries. Goran was intrigued by the idea of eating sweet things for breakfast besides savory ones. And Chris was more than happy to show him the full range of dishes on offer.

Alex shook his head at their rapidly receding backs. “I’ve never known a kid eat so much.”

“And Goran’s not far behind. Heh, heh.”

Alex smiled briefly.

“That’s better.” said Piers, smiling too. “Something on your mind? Is it your brother?”

“No, it’s not only that. Piers, would you talk to Goran for me? About joining the _Bezbednosno Informativna Agencija._ We’ve been discussing it. Well, I have. But he can’t seem to make his mind up. The Agency could do with some fresh blood. He’s perfect material.”

“Wow! Goran, join your intelligence service? Sure, if you want. But you’d be much better off asking Chris to do it.”

“Why Chris?”

“Goran has a real bad case of hero worship.”

“Worse than yours?”

“Hmm, you always did see through me Alex.”

“Perhaps, if things had been different back then … ?”

“No, it wouldn’t have lasted, trust me. It had to be Chris, it was meant to be. Deep down I knew that.”

“He’s a lucky man.”

“No, I’m the lucky one. Don’t worry, I’ll speak to Chris. He’ll be happy to do it.”

“Sometime soon if he can. I’d like an answer before we go back to Edonia.”

“Then there’s no time like the present. Who knows how busy we’ll be with Dee once he gets started.”

“Is your Director going to be looking at every detail?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. Command does, after any SOU operation, but Sword and Shield wasn’t like that. We we’re working in the field, as SOAs. Essentially on a Black Op. Chris probably has a better idea.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No. I’m trying to get him to wind down, not wind up. Talking ifs and buts won’t help him.”

“Hence the sauna?”

“Yeah, it’s not just the physical aspect. Chris needs to relax mentally too.”

“He’s hard work isn’t he? For you I mean.”

“It’s not work, it’s more a calling. I want to do it. That’s my role in our partnership.”

“Like your brother wants to help Agent Birkin?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that. Chris said something similar earlier.”

Alex reached over and put his hand on Piers’. “Then it must be true my friend.”

****************************

Despite his earlier protestations, Chris did join the others in some gentle aerobic exercises. He found that he couldn’t enter a gym and not work out. It was like eating a donut without the jelly filling, strangely unsatisfying. After half an hour or so, and having warned Piers to watch his injured leg for the umpteenth time, Chris took Goran to one side.

“Leave them to it kiddo. They’re gonna start competing with one another soon.”

“Captain?”

“It’s a guy thing. It always happens, trust me.”

“Always?”

“Ha! We’ll see, after we’ve had our chat.”

“Chat?”

“Alex has asked me to speak to you. Let’s shower first, then we’ll talk in the sauna. Have you been in a sauna before?”

Goran blushed. “No, Captain Chris.”

“You’ll love it! It’s very relaxing. Oh, by the way, if I happen to fall asleep during our conversation, wake me up!”

“Really?”

“Believe it!”

Whist Chris showered unselfconsciously, Goran felt himself coloring-up every time he stole a glance at his hero. He took in Chris’ musculature, noting the blue and purple bruises that had now joined the nicks and scars that covered Chris’ arms and torso. Only by turning the shower progressively colder, did he manage to stop embarrassing himself further. Then he thought perhaps they would sit naked in the sauna, and he began to stiffen again. So he was very glad when Chris wrapped a towel around his waist before entering. Goran followed suit, hoping the towel would hide his hard-on.

They sat facing one another, and Chris ladled some water onto the hot coals. They hissed and crackled as the water instantly turned to steam.

“Ooh!” Goran gasped in surprise. The sudden blast of heat had taken his breath away.

Chris laughed. “Soon have it warmed up. Here, you try … not too much at once, let the coals recover … that’s it, good.”

Goran tried to smile through the searing wave of hot air that seemed intent on burning the very hairs inside his nose, let alone making his eyes water.

“Gurkk!”

“Ha!”

The young shepherd struggled to regain his composure; he didn’t want to let his Captain down. “So, ah, what did you want to talk, ahh … bout, Captain?”

“I understand Alex has asked you to join the _Bez_ … the _Bezbe_ …” Chris frowned. “… you know, the BIA thingy. Is that right?”

“Yes Sir.”

“It’s a big accolade. There’s normally a long and hard selection procedure for things like that.”

“I know. Alex seems to think I have already shown all the required skills over the last month.”

“He’s right, you have. You are a remarkable young man, Goran.”

Goran blushed. His usually rosy cheeks now felt on fire. “Oh, I don’t know. There would still be some training required, in a military academy.”

“Hmm, undoubtedly. Well, first of all, it’s entirely your decision to make. I don’t want to influence you in any way, just state the practicalities as I see them.”

“Yes, alright.”

“There’s only two options for you as I see it. In or Out. There’s no half-measures. You have to commit fully, to one or the other. Ok?”

“Yes Captain Chris.”

Chris scratched the back of his neck, to gain some time whilst he gathered his wits.

“Back in the States, I’ve got a young soldier a lot like you, Danny Svenson. He’s taller than me, not as strong perhaps, but powerfully built. And yet he’s as gentle as a kitten. He’s not a hard, cold, killing machine. He’s a country boy, loves his animals and nature. You’d like him. That’s the world he truly belongs in, not in one fighting monsters. Right now he’s in a hospital, fighting for his life. Why? Because I put him in harm’s way. People like Piers and me have to fight for something, a cause, to justify our killing. People like you and Danny, you’re the people we fight to protect. The kind, honest people who deserve to live their lives in peace, without threat or fear.”

“But who is going to follow on in your footsteps if people like me don’t? Who are your successors?”

“Good question. Short answer, some always will follow, whatever the situation. But they’re not you. Who’s going to watch over the flock? Who’s going to help out the neighboring farmer when he’s in need? Who’s going to take over from your father when he get’s old? Who will Piers and I be fighting for if everyone is a soldier?”

“I see.”

“You could become a 'Spook’ Goran. An agent for the BIA. You’d be a very good one, I’m certain. But it could end terribly, just like that.” Chris suddenly snapped his fingers, making Goran flinch in surprise. He’d been hanging on Chris’ every word.

“You meet the wrong person in some godforsaken shithole one night, or your luck suddenly desserts you when you most need it. It’s a life of continual danger. Your parents and sisters would always be worried sick. Doing a job you can’t even talk to them about.”

“So you’re saying I should refuse?”

“Like I said, it’s your decision Goran. I can’t, I won’t, make it for you. But Piers and I would be honored to know we were fighting for you, and all you represent.”

“Thank you Captain. You’ve been a great help.”

“Ha! So what’s it to be?”

“Um, I’m still not sure. I would like to think about your advice first. And besides, I think it would be better to tell Alex before anyone else.”

“Yes, it would. You’re a good person Goran. I’m proud to have met you. Don’t ever change! Now, you’re also beginning to look like a cooked lobster. Ha! Go take a long, tepid shower, then find Piers and tell him to join me here, in about half an hour.”

“Are you going to have a sleep now Captain?”

“Damn right I am!”

****************************

“Well Ace, I’ve either cost the _Beb_ … the _Beez_ … the BIA, the best Spook they never had, or I’ve restored Edonia’s balance of nature.”

“The _Bezbednosno Informativna Agencija_?”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

Piers rolled his eyes. “How did you manage to do all that?”

Chris scratched the back of his neck, nervously. Always a bad sign. “Um, I told Goran it was his decision alone to make … then presented a convincing case on why he shouldn’t accept Alex’s offer. He doesn’t need a life of continual danger and skullduggery. I should know.”

“We both do. You did the right thing Babe. I’d have done exactly the same. Has he made his final decision?”

“I don’t know. He wanted to think it about some more, then tell Alex first. Goran’s seeing him now.”

“Great. He’s a good man.”

“The European Branch would snap him up in an instant, so would I normally. But I’m tired of playing God to peoples lives Piers. I don’t want that responsibility anymore.”

“Hey! It was never your choice Babe. You had it thrust on you.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But when we get back, I’d like to think things will be different, better somehow.”

“They will be, and you will be too. Trust me.”

“I always have. Even when we’ve disagreed. You’re my savior Piers Nivans.”

“Hey, don’t get all emotional on me. Not yet anyway, save it till we’re back home, in our own bed.”

“Our own _Kingsize_ bed.” Chris closed his eyes dreamily. “I can’t wait.”

“It’s a California King actually. Longer, on account of your big feet. Heh, heh!”

“Oi! I thought it was for your big Californian head!”

“Touché.”

“Ok, for your big Californian tooshie then … ”

???

“… What?”

****************************

“Oh my hairless ones! Let me look at my two best agents! Christopher! Woof! Mwah, mwah!” Ivan Slotic planted a large wet kiss either side of a dazed Captain’s face, then hugged him tight.

“Nice to see … Oww, Oww, mind the bruises there big guy!”

Ivan was oblivious as he then turned his attention to Piers. “Pees! My pretty little teacher. Mwah, mwah!”

“Er, Hi there Ivan, mmpff!”

“Oh, little cub, still the pouty rollings! Ha, ha, ha!”

Meanwhile Niko Nikolayavič shook Chris warmly by the hand. “Tovarisch, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too Niko, we’ve missed you both, well you anyway. Ha!”

When Piers was eventually put down, Niko stepped forward, smiling shyly.

“Piers?”

“Niko?”

Then Piers suddenly found himself in another bearhug. “I wondered if I’d ever see you again, you and your pretty hair.” Niko’s hands made their way down to Piers’ butt. “How you say? Grrr?”

The waiting MPs looked on with a growing mix of horror and amazement, shaking their heads in disbelief. Jeez, were all these weirdos gay? Ivan looked around at them.

“What is with all the pretty boys with guns? Is boy band?” he appraised his bemused young escorts in detail. “Mmm, very cute, I must have in my club. Niko! Please to put Pees down and arrange.”

“Um, they’re here for your, er, protection Ivan. Admiral Foster’s orders.” said Chris, trying to be tactful.

“I need no protection. I have my little Niko, and now I have my favorite hairless cubs. Who is this Admiral person? I, Ivan Slotic, am your No.1 Controller! Where is Dee? I will talk with him.”

“Calm down Ivan. Dee’s debriefing Alex and Goran at the moment. They both say Hi by the way. They’re looking forward to seeing you.”

“Excellent, perhaps Goran will then talk with his mother. All the time I am getting the yackety-yak-yaks! That woman will not leave me in peace.” Ivan adopted a loud, whiny, falsetto voice. “Where is my baby? What have you done with my son? This is all your fault Ivan Slotic. Wait till I see you …”

“Ha, yeah I get the message. C'mon, there’s some admin shit to see to first. What you can and can’t do whilst you are guests here. Temporary IDs and stuff. Then we’ll take you to your cabins and …”

“Cabins? What is this? Are we going on a ships?”

“Er, no, it’s what they call your rooms here. This base is a US Navy stone ship.”

“American, crazy language. I tell you before. Why can’t you speak with proper English!” Ivan turned around. “Niko, bad boy! Stop the flirtings and pick up my suitcases, Christopher and I have much to discuss in private …”

As Ivan put a large hairy paw around his shoulder, Chris threw Piers a last desperate look. “Like a hurricane!”

Piers was helping Niko with Ivan’s suitcases. He winced as he picked one up, then rolled his eyes. “Huff! Yeah, and I have to tell you, Hurricane Ivan doesn’t travel light!”

“Pees! I am still best No.1 Controller. I can see you behind my back. No more pouty rollings! Bad puppy! Ha, ha, ha!”

****************************

“Dear Boys, come in, come in, please make yourselves comfortable. Michael, bring in the coffee now if you please.”

Dee beamed at them all, he was in a particularly good mood.“

"I have just been reviewing the latest news from the Bioterrorism Assessment Committee. A definite reduction in the tempo of operations. The _Volfpack_ units furthest from the epicenter of Edonia seem to be the first to show the signs.”

“Due to their longer command and supply chains?” Piers volunteered.

“My thinking exactly dear boy …”

“But Edonia is now also much quieter Dee.” Interrupted Ivan. “In chaos yes, but less activity.”

“Hmm, that’s probably due to the NATO air strikes. The rogue elements of the army and the ELA suffered irreparable damage.”

“And due to my best agents and _my_ wonderful team.”

“Yes, Ivan, we couldn’t have done it without you.” Chris grinned.

Ivan grinned broadly. “See? I told you all!”

“Ha, you certainly did that Ivan. But what of the _Volfpack_ itself? Any news on the whereabouts of its Captains for example?”

“A good question Christopher. Alex, Ivan?” Dee looked at them both keenly.

“I’m a bit out of the loop Director …” answered Alex. “… but I would expect the loyal army and police units will have now joined forces, under the guidance of the BIA. After the last civil war, we adopted certain procedures to find and arrest fleeing member of Neo-Umbrella and La Vita Nuova.”

“Yes, Alex is right. I have been collating data too, from my own agents. This has been passed on to the appropriate authorities. I believe our European friends are also assisting with border checks.”

“Sounds good. What about the organizational structure of the _Volfpack_?” asked Chris.

The BIA will begin sifting through all material found in _Kaponik_ and _Majdabor._ I have briefed the Director on this after speaking to my own Chief.“

"One step ahead already, huh Dee?”

“Oh, at least dear Christopher. Ha, ha! Now, to business, the formal debrief for Operation Sword and Shield. I need not remind you again of the security caveats. You have all signed the non-disclosure documents. In the course of this debrief I may ask you as individuals, or in groups, to prepare written reports. But first of all, I want you to tell me, in your own words, what happened step by step. There will be no recordings made. But I may write things down as we go. To act as an aide memoire later. You may interrupt one another if you have serious reservations about, or disagreements with, what you are hearing. But otherwise, please keep your interjections to a minimum. Do you understand me Controller?”

“Who, me?” Ivan feigned a look of surprise. “Ha, ha, ha!”

“I am particularly interested in who else was present at all times. Anyone, however seemingly unimportant, or unconnected to your activities. If, God forbid, there are subsequent leaks concerning the operation, or your part in it; it will be vital to trace any potential source. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Dee.”

“Young Goran, this world of secrecy and intelligence analysis may be strange to you. Do you have any specific questions so far?”

“No, Sir.”

“Excellent dear boy. But if you do, just say so and we will pause and explain things. Your input is just as important as your friends.” Dee smiled.

“I understand Sir.” replied Goran, blushing.

“Good, good. Right. Christopher, my most disobedient servant. We will start with you, and your insertion into Edonia …”

****************************

“I don’t know about you Ace, but I’m exhausted! My brain hurts!”

“Heh, heh! Yeah. Dee doesn’t miss a trick does he? He even got ahead of me sometimes.”

“Really? Someone can actually do that?”

“Ask my Mom.”

“Ha! At least he kept Ivan in check.”

“Cheque? What is this cheque? Who is payings?” said Piers in a passable imitation.

“Ha, ha, ha, very good Ace. I’m a bit concerned about Dee though. I thought we’d have another session tonight.”

“Chris! He’s fresh out of hospital.”

“I know. But normally, once he gets his teeth into something, he won’t let go. He’ll hang on like grim death. Sorta like a bull terrier.”

“Hmm, sounds familiar …”

“Oi!”.

“To be honest, I think Dee’s reveling in all this. After all, it’s the culmination of all he’s worked for. You spoke to Mike. What did he have to say?”

“He’d rather Dee was back in Washington, under hospital supervision. But he knows it’s useless to argue directly with the old fox. Mike would rather be back there too. Did you know he and Jill are living together now?”

“What!”

“Yeah, surprise huh?”

“You don’t seem that surprised.”

“Well, I did have my suspicions. I sorta introduced them.”

“When?”

“After that time in 2012, when she and I, um, went our different ways.”

“That was big of you. All things considered.”

“It was just as much my fault. I didn’t want her to be alone when she was transferred to HQ. Told her Mike would make a good drinking partner, you know, on a Friday night wind down.”

“And poor you got stuck with me. Not exactly the world’s best drinking buddy.”

“You make up for it in so many other ways Piers, and then some.”

“Thanks, but I find comparisons to the, er, Colonel rather uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, you need to relax more when Jill’s about. I’m Ok about things, so should you be.”

“Sorry, I just get so protective …”

“And a little bit jealous perhaps?”

“No, not a little.”

“Oh Piers! I wish we were back home. I so wanna do you in the comfort of our own bed. It’s not the same being here.”

“I know, I feel like I’m under a microscope. Being studied … again!”

“Hey! You Ok?”

“I’ll be alright once we get away from here. I don’t like being under armed guard. Guess I’m just funny that way!” Piers shrugged in resignation.

“No, you’re right. It’s unacceptable. Especially for you Piers. Leave it to me. I will fix this.”

“With Dee?”

“No, with Mike. I figure he owes me one for pairing him up with Jill.”

“What have you got in mind? Don’t do anything rash Bear, please?”

“I’m gonna do a couple of things. Don’t worry, no crazy stuff. Listen, can you remember the name of the head of that Combat Stress Control Team at the counseling session?”

“Um, Cynthia, Capt Cynthia Cummins.”

“Yeah, that was it.” Chris fixed his partner with the fatherly smile. “Piers, I get the feeling you’re going to need some counseling very soon … and strangely, so will I.”


	4. La Dolce Vita?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has a plan, though Dee has his doubts. Piers meets a new friend, but can he work his old magic? Sometimes, when you finally get what you want, you realise it's not what you needed after all. Are Chris and Piers ready for the sweet life? Read on.

Captain Cummins looked up from her desk. "Captain Redfield! I didn't expect to see you again. Is there a problem?"

"Hi Cynthia. Um, yeah. I need to ask you a big, big favor . . ." He gave her his best little boy lost smile; and she gave him 100% of her attention in return. ". . . You see, there's this problem, and you were the first person I thought of . . ."

As Chris left her office a short while later, he smiled to himself in satisfaction. "Ha! You still got it Redfield! Phase One completed. Now to find Mike . . ."

****************************

Mike Lugano was standing in front of Dee's desk. He was holding a sheaf of papers in one large, ham-like, hand. "Captain Cummins says here it's akin to being held in captivity Boss."

"Tch! This is no prison Michael, it's a US Navy base."

"So's Guantanamo Bay!"

"Michael!"

"Just stating the facts Boss. Like this report from Captain Cummins. I think she's right. Captain Redfield admitted privately to me that Captain Nivans was going stir crazy."

"Really? And when did this little tête-à-tête occur?"

"Yes Boss, after yesterdays session."

"Christopher said nothing to me. I thought he seemed in high spirits."

"You know that's how he hides his true feelings these days. The Piers effect, you said it yourself. Besides, he also said he didn't want to spoil your moment of enjoyment. Especially since you were looking frail yourself."

"Pah! And what of Captain Nivans? Did he have anything to say?"

"Yes. He said it was like being kept in the facility at _Tianjin_ all over again."

"He did? Oh dear, then perhaps it is true true. Piers is nothing if not a pragmatist, not given to hyperbole. What does this Captain Cummins suggest?"

"Some free time, outside of the base. A morning's excursion, a visit to the nearest town perhaps. Something that demonstrates they're not under close supervision."

"But we're in the middle of important business here Michael!"

"I've thought of that Boss. Got you booked in for a check-up, with the Senior Surgeon. So your time won't be wasted."

"Why? I'm not ill!"

"I beg to differ Boss. I didn't bust my ass saving you in Beirut, only for you to kill yourself here."

"That's only your opinion Michael."

"No, I've also got a report from the Chief Surgeon at Bethesda. He says you must be kept under observation. Here, do you wanna read it?"

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm party to one of dear Christopher's plans? That I've just been ambushed?"

"That's just your guilt Boss. Because you know it's true."

The cold, grey eyes across the desk surveyed Mike for a second. "24 hours tell them. Not a minute more!"

"Thanks Boss. I'll let them know."

"Tch! And when am I supposed to see this surgeon person?"

"This morning, 11:00 hours. I'll take you there myself."

"Under close supervision? Dear me, young Piers would love the irony. Very well, that's all for now Michael. I need to make some phone calls, alone if you please."

"Boss." Mike closed the door on his way out. Only when he was back at his own desk in the outer office did he permit himself a rare, satisfied, smile. "So far, so good Chris."

Dee picked up the phone by his side and hit zero. "Hello? . . . Get me the Local Duty Officer please . . . Yes, I'll hold . . .Thank you . . . Ah, Lieutenant Hartley? . . . This is Director Dee of the BSAA . . . That's correct . . . Your special guests . . . Yes, Captains Redfield and Nivans . . . I have granted them 24 hours shore leave . . . I do . . . I understand . . . I want them kept under observation . . . Yes, a shore patrol . . . The largest and strongest you have . . . No, make it obvious . . . Thank you . . . Yes, I will . . . Goodbye."

Dee picked up the reports lying in before him. He scanned through them. "Almost certainly all poppycock." he snorted. "Still, I have to keep them on side, especially now . . ." He looked at the CNN news feed on his laptop screen and shook his head. ". . . It's not looking good for Hillary at the moment."

****************************

They were in the bustling town centre of _Catania_. Strolling along busy streets under a clear but cold azure sky. Chris took in a deep breath.

"Ah, smell that freedom Ace. I can't believe Dee fell for it."

"He didn't."

"Huh? What do you mean? We're here aren't we?"

"So are some of the US Navy's finest and fittest. About a hundred meters behind us."

Chris went to turn his head.

"Don't look!" hissed Piers. "Use the reflection in that shop window."

"Hmm, I see. How long have they been there?"

"Since we got off the bus."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because for once I hoped I was wrong ."

"But you're never wrong!"

"Precisely! At least they only seem to be tailing us for now."

"They seem rather obvious. Even for MPs"

"I think that's the idea."

"Dee?"

"I couldn't possibly comment."

"They could do with some professional instruction."

"Wait, don't tell me. You know just the man?"

"Ha! Wanna loose em?"

"Heh, heh. I thought you'd never ask . . ."

"Look Piers, there's an indoor market, plenty of people. We go in, and straight through, out the other side. You go left, I'll go right, then we double back to that corner coffee shop we passed about two blocks back."

"Caffè Rossi?"

"I didn't see the name, I just smelt it . . . mmm. Anyway, that one, Ok?"

"It sounded sorta familiar for some reason."

'Whatever, see you inside. Now go!"

They met up in the Caffè a few minutes later and headed for a quiet table away from the windows

"Made it!" said Piers as he and Chris sat down.

Chris grinned triumphantly. "Easy peasy!"

"Yeah. Any sign of them?"

"Nah. They're probably still in that market . . ." Chris was interrupted by a man's voice from behind.

"Captain Redfield, Captain Nivans?"

"Whoa! Where did you spring from?"

Chris looked up at the muscular, olive skinned young waiter dressed in a tight white shirt and equally tight jeans.

"Don't you remember me?" said the man, smiling

Chris shook his head. "Should I? I thought you were the Cops!"

"Er, Lieutenant Rossi, United States Marine Corp, the Consular office in Edonia City."

Piers laughed. He'd recognized the handsome young Marine straightaway. Just like he'd remembered the name of the family run _Caffè_ in _Catania_ when they'd walked past it earlier. "Heh, heh, surely you remember Chris?"

Chris blinked, then his face broke into the sudden grin of recognition. "Oh yeah. Lieutenant Rossi wasn't it? Sorry, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

"I beg your pardon Sir?"

"Um, because you're in civvies, er, not wearing MARPAT is what I meant." Chris said blushing.

Piers came to Chris' rescue. "What are you doing here Ricco?"

"After we evacuated from Edonia, we were relocated to the consulate in Naples; temporarily, until things get back to normal. I decided to take some shore leave. So, here I am, helping out my Grandparents with the family business. But what brings you two here? It can't be a co-incidence, surely?"

"Hmm, long story short, I can't tell you. Need to know Kiddo." answered Chris, tapping his nose. "What I can tell you is that we're currently avoiding our US Navy minders."

"Huh?"

"There's a Naval shore patrol keeping us under surveillance."

"Not because we've done anything wrong I hasten to add." said Piers.

"More because we might." explained Chris

"Such as?"

"Enjoy a little shore time R&R." Chris winked.

"Oh, I see Sirs. Can I help? I owe you one."

"Well, for a start, you could take a look and see if there's a bunch of confused MPs outside?"

"They're always confused." Ricco looked casually out of the window. "Yes Captain, right across the street. They seem to be looking at a map or something."

"We need to shake them." said Piers

"And we also need somewhere to stay, just for a day or so. Before we go back. Any ideas?"

"I see, I think. Come with me Sirs, through the kitchen."

They followed Ricco out to the back of the _Caffè._ He took two sets of keys down from nails, hammered into a beam by the back door, and handed them to Chris.

"Keys for my scooter, and keys to our rental apartment in _Taormina_."

"Where?"

" _Taormina_. It's the next biggest town north along the coast, about 40 clicks, you can't miss it. Here, let me write down the address, just ask for it when you get there . . . It's empty right now, off-season, and here's my cell number too, in case of emergencies. Everything's ready to go. I'll drive up this evening, just to make sure you're Ok. Say 18:00? If you're not, um, resting or relaxing that is."

"Ha! You sure?"

"Of course Sir, like I said, I owe you."

"Not any more you don't! C'mon Piers, let's go whilst the coast is clear."

"Take the first right, then the second left, that'll take you up back to the main road."

Chris shook Ricco's hand warmly, so did Piers. "Um, any helmets, for the scooter?" he asked.

"Er, this is Sicily Captain. We don't do helmets. It's not considered macho."

Chris laughed. "Ha, US Marines 1, BSAA 0." Piers gave him the look.

"Good luck Sirs!" Ricco waived goodbye as Chris gunned the little scooter, causing Piers to frantically tighten his grip around Chris' waist.

"Careful Bear!"

"Whoo! Road to freedom!"

****************************

The engine of the little green scooter popped and crackled in protest as it struggled up the hills with its heavy load. But every so often, Chris and Piers were rewarded with a panoramic view of the Mediterranean Sea stretching away to the east.

Chris turned his head to speak. "That's what I call a view Ace! Mountains to the left, sea to the right."

"It reminds me of the PCH back home. Can we stop?"

"Sure, just for a while. Then let's find somewhere to eat."

"Pizza?"

"Yeah, when in Rome . . ."

They arrived in _Taormina_ in the early afternoon. But already the lights were coming on in the picturesque town straddling the cliffs that ran down to the Bay of Naxos below. Behind the town, in the distance, loomed the forbidding shape of Mount Etna. But the locals seemed friendly enough. A cheerful garage owner had given them well meant, but imprecise, instructions to the Rossi's apartment.

"Was that the third wave of the left hand, or the second right arm flap?" queried Chris as they rode around the same cobbled piazza yet again.

"Why don't you stop and ask that little old lady? Over there, on the corner."

"Cos I can find it! It's a man thing."

Piers rolled his eyes. "Eventually perhaps. Grannies know everything, trust me."

"You can do the asking then. And I'll count the hand signals. Ha, ha, ha!"

Granny did know best. The apartment was the top floor of a tall, elegant Baroque building, with green shutters on the windows, and stone balustrades on the balconies.

Once inside, the first thing Piers did was to get a fire going, whilst Chris checked out the plumbing and the pantry. "Give it half an hour and we should have some hot water. Oh, there's some stuff in the freezer too."

"Let's eat out tonight Babe. We are in Italy after all."

"What about Ricco?"

"He can join us. Our treat."

"I was hoping to have you all to myself."

"Afraid of the competition?"

"No! But he leaves as soon as we've paid the check! Two's company, three's a crowd.

****************************

In the event, Ricco only stayed for a drink. He'd brought some fresh provisions, and a pamphlet extolling the virtues of the town. "You gotta see the Teatro Greco and the Porta Messina, that's where all the little shops are. Oh, and the Park Giovanni Colonna is great for a romantic stroll."

"Sounds like the voice of experience."

Ricco blushed, but didn't answer directly. "I thought you'd just like it, you know . . . R&R."

"Damn right we would!"

"Thanks Ricco, you've been very kind."

"Figured you guys deserve it. Especially if the scuttlebutt on base is even half true."

"Oh? What are people saying?"

"That you guys are a couple of Spooks. Playing way out of the US Navy's league. Doing some seriously heavy shit."

"And what do you say Ricco?" asked Piers.

"Loose lips sink ships Captain. What this marine knows stays with this marine."

"Ha, US Marines 2, BSAA 0." Chris put a sympathetic arm around Piers' shoulders.

"Are you guys always like this? You know, with all the banter."

"Pretty much It's a coping mechanism. Piers and I have been an item for over two years now. He's been good for me in more ways than you can imagine." Chris pulled Piers in close.

"We're good for each other." explained Piers, simply.

"Teamwork, huh?"

"Believe it.

****************************

Ricco had recommended they try the Hotel Metropole, for its evening jazz entertainment. But they wanted somewhere quieter, more romantic, and finally settled on the Gran Hotel Timeo, for its views across the bay and to Mount Etna. The meal had been everything Piers had wished for. Fresh local produce simply cooked. Italian cuisine with a touch of Greek and Arabic flavors, reflecting the island's ancient past. And served with local wines. A crisp, white _Alcamo,_ and a warm _Faro_ red, paired the fish and meat courses respectively. It had been everything Chris had wanted too . . . Plentiful!

They finished the home made tiramisu with a glass of _Averna_ , the local digestif, served on the rocks; then walked arm in arm back to their apartment.

"How 'bout we sleep in front of the fire tonight? Like we do back home?"

"No Ruff to keep my feet warm though."

"You got a Bear! What more do you need?"

"Nothing. I've never wanted anything else but to be in your arms."

"That's what they were made for. Come here. Mwah!"

"Oh Chris . . .

****************************

They made sweet, tender love on the rug in front of the crackling log fire. Not the frenzied fumbling they'd experienced back in Chris' cabin on base. This was proper lovemaking. A dance choreographed by equals, so that each gave and received in shared union.

Only in the early hours of the morning, when their love was sated, and the glowing embers of the fire began to lose their heat, did they retire to the bedroom to sleep.

Later, as the pink glow of the sunrise streamed through the room's windows, Chris wrapped Piers in his arms and sighed contentedly.

"Ahh, this is the life Ace. I could stay here forever . . ."

"Me too Babe. La dolce vita . . ."

They both lapsed into silence. An uneasy silence, punctuated only by the sound of their steady breathing.

"Who are we kidding?

"Only ourselves."

"We're like two naughty kids, slipping off school. We need to finish up here and go home. Don't we?"

"Yeah. We've had our moment fun. Besides, it's not fair on the others. It's selfish of us."

"Roger that. It was great while it lasted though. Last night, wow! You were incredible Piers! How'd you learn to do all that?"

"I had good material to work with, the best. Heh, heh!"

"Plenty more where that came from. Ha! But not here, not now."

"I miss Ruff."

"And I miss our boys. Let's go home Piers."


	5. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After saying their goodbyes, Chris and Piers are keen to return home. But there's no time for them to bathe in the glow of a successful mission. No time to relax aching muscles, to rest tired minds. From the moment they arrive back at Williamsport, there is an ever growing list of things to be done. For Piers, it's a mixed blessing. It will take Chris' mind off recent events, but will it lead to new issues?

In Sicily, Director Dee had completed his debrief. And all too suddenly it was time for Chris and Piers to say their goodbyes.

Goodbye to Alex Nedovic, still quietly mourning the death of his brother. But resolute in his desire to see Edonia return to democracy, and its people return to peace. One of those would be Goran Slotic. The young shepherd had listened carefully to Chris' advice earlier, and decided his true place was back in the mountains of his home. With his family, with his flock, and with his music.

Goodbye to the irrepressible Ivan Slotic, who, apart from re-opening the Bear's Cave nightclub, would be assisting Alex to rout out the remains of the _Volfpack_ in his capacity as the BSAA's local representative. And he would be served faithfully by Niko Nikolayavič, doorman, bodyguard and so much more.

Goodbye to Ricco Rossi, who was now on standby to return to his post as the US Marine's communications specialist in the Edonia City consulate. Farewell too, to the RAF crew, who had played such a crucial role in the successful completion of Operation Sword and Shield.

And now Chris and Piers were onboard the same USAF aircraft as Director Dee, Mike Lugano, and Sherry Birkin. Heading back to Joint Base Andrews at Washington. And then, together with Sherry, on to Williamsport, and finally their home, the _Deuce of Hearts_.

"You will need to remain available at short notice once you return to Williamsport dear boys." said a smiling Dee.

"What! You gotta be kidding me Dee! Piers and I have stuff to do when we get back!"

"I'm sure you do dear Christopher." Dee replied, winking knowingly at Piers."

"No, not that! Well, that too, but we've started a list. It's already as long as my arm. Things will have slipped whilst we've been away."

"No, to the contrary, 'things', as you put it, have not slipped in your absence. Gillian and her team have been thorough in their handling of the NAB's combat operations. You may even find some improvements awaiting you on your return."

"Last thing I remember, she'd disbanded Alpha! That wasn't an improvement!"

"It was actually a temporary re-allocation if I remember correctly. Isn't that right Piers?"

"Yes Dee. You were out of the loop at the time Chris."

"What you mean is I was . . ."

"Yeah, you were concerned for Mary and the kids, for Finn and Danny. You couldn't be expected to handle everything. I just gave Jill the advice you would have done."

They all knew Piers had just thrown Chris a lifebelt."

"Hmm, did I say thank you?"

"Oh yes, lots of times." Piers smiled reassuringly, then deftly turned the conversation away from Chris. "So, Dee, what are _your_ priorities? Are you going to leave Colonel Valentine in place as Director?"

"No, I will resume my post. Like Alpha Team, Gillian's status was only temporary. She will return to her role as the NAB's more than capable Operations Director. Unless she has other plans." Dee looked pointedly at Mike. "Can you add anything to that Michael?"

"I think that the Colonel has found the politics hard to handle."

"That's not quite what I meant, and you know it! Ha, ha, ha . . . cough . . ."

You Ok Boss? Here, use your inhaler."

"Puff, puff. Thank you dear boy. It's merely the cabin conditioning."

"It's too much talking if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you Michael!"

"Ha! You two, you're just like us, all the sniping." said Chris, ginning broadly. "So, what are Piers and me on standby for exactly?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Your personal debrief with the President of course. Sword and Shield was just as much his operation as mine. There are certain, um, delicate matters, he wishes to discuss with you."

"Can't you do that? Piers and I have . . ."

"Stuff to do? Yes, so you said. And so does the President."

"Heh, heh. Seems I get off lightly then boys." said Sherry, laughing as she joined in the banter. "All I've got to do is give birth, in a strange place, in secret, with no family . . ."

"We'll be there for you Kiddo, don't worry," Chris smiled reassuringly. "Er, you got any ideas for Godparents yet?"

"Not yet. It depends what sex baby is. Claire of course. Leon perhaps, or Ingrid. Why?"

"Chris want's to add to his collection." Piers smirked.

"You're just jealous cos children warm to me! I give good hugs."

"And candy and pocket money."

"What are you saying? That I bribe them?"

"No, it's more like your motivational training philosophy. Also known as the carrot and stick approach."

"Ha! If that's true, it makes you the donkey!"

"Better than being a bear!"

"Oi!"

"Dear boys, please, please, enough!" Dee shook his head sadly. "We have another 9 hours flying time. How did you two ever manage to become partners?"

Chris and Piers looked at each other and grinned. "Love!" they said together.

"And some behind the scenes manipulation." added Mike, looking stone-faced at Dee . . .

****************************

"Williamsport ATC, this is Redwing, C21-A , 5 POB, on handover from State."

"We have you identified on primary Redwing. Uh, Captain, is that really you?"

"Roger that Base."

"Welcome home Sir. We've missed you."

"Thanks Control. Requesting long approach and landing."

"Oh, don't you wanna, um, beat up the tower first Redwing? We've sorta missed it."

"Negative! I've got a girl pregnant on board."

"Say what!?"

****************************

Lieutenant Susan Casey met them at the steps of the aircraft. She looked tired, but a huge smile lit up her face as they exited. "Captains! Oh, it's so good to see you both. Are you Ok? Where have you been? We've heard nothing for weeks. Oh, rank be dammed!" She ran forward and hugged them both.

"Hey, steady on there Susie, people are looking!"

"Let them!"

"Er, Hi. Susie is it? I'm Sherry, Sherry Birkin."

"Oh, excuse me. Susie Casey, personnel." The girls shook hands warmly. "Sherry, your accommodation is all ready. You've got Captain Redfield's suite in the Officer's Mess. I'll take you there now and settle you in if you'd like?"

"Oh, yes please. Thank you, and thank you too Chris, for your suite."

"Don't thank me Kiddo. First I've heard of it."

Susie blushed. "I didn't think you'd mind Captain."

"No, of course I don't. You did good Susie. Um, how's Mary Ellis?"

"Coping. She's settling into married quarters, I was with her this morning, just for a quick coffee and a chat. Things have been crazy here since you left. "

"And Finn and Danny?" asked Piers. "How are they?"

"Corporal Macauley is walking, with the aid of crutches. Corporal Svenson is recovering well from his latest round of surgery. Hopefully it will be his last. They're so sweet together. Corporal Macauley hasn't left his side once."

"That's my rookie! We'll see Sherry settled, then head for home. We can catch up with everyone else tomorrow. Can you give us a lift back to the Deuce of Hearts?"

"Jeep's all yours Captain. If you wouldn't mind dropping Sherry and me off at the mess first?"

"You Ok with that Sherry? Or would you like us to stay awhiles?"

"Don't worry Chris. Baby and I will be just fine. I just want to stretch my legs then relax. That plane is so tiny inside."

"Ha! Tell me about it! I get a crick in my neck every time I fly one."

"Usually caused by the unauthorized aerobatics." Piers observed, tartly.

"Hey!"

****************************

After making sure Sherry was comfortable, Chris and Piers quickly left the Officer's Mess. All they wanted to do now was to get home as quickly as possible. But as they drove past the Junior NCOs block, where the bomb that had injured Finn and Danny had exploded, they saw that the end of the building was still shrouded under a tarpaulin. Chris was aghast.

"Why haven't they fixed it yet? What the hell's been going on here Piers?"

"Don't get angry Babe. The NAB's been kinda busy. You know that. You could tell by the strain in Lieutenant Casey's face. I suppose it hasn't been a priority."

"Whilst we've been sat on our asses in Sicily. Why wasn't I informed?"

"Hey, we've been kinda busy too. You can't do everything single handed Babe."

"I could have a damn fine try! This is totally unacceptable Ace. I've got a private suite, which I hardly ever use, whilst our Corporals are living in an open-sided, bombed out building covered over with bits of canvas!"

Piers sighed. He knew better than to argue with Chris as far as his 'boys and girls' were concerned. "Ok, we'll add it to the 'to do' list. Before or after resurrecting Alpha?"

"They're all equal, Mary, Finn and Danny, Alpha, this. And anything else we find that need's fixing!"

"Welcome home Babe."

"Make the most of it tonight Piers. Tomorrow we gonna start cleaning up this shit!"

"Roger that Alpha 1."

"Ha! Damn right! Let's go home for now . . ."

"Good idea."

". . . and first thing in the morning, we'll work up a plan."

****************************

They didn't recognize the fresh-faced MP Corporal manning the _Four of Diamonds_ ; the crash gate that led from the airfield into the woods surrounding the _Deuce of Hearts_. But he recognized them from his 'Senior Officers' photo crib, and saluted smartly as Piers pulled up to the gate.

"Captain Redfield, Captain Nivans. Sergeant MacDonald said to expect you. Welcome home Sirs."

"Thank you Corporal, it's good to be back. By the way, where are all the Corporals billeted right now? I noticed the NCO's block hasn't been repaired yet."

"Um, we're all over the place Sir. Some in the Enlisted Visitor's quarters. Some in the enlisted men's barracks, double bunking."

"Hmm, well, put the word out that's all gonna change. Soon as I get back in my office . . . if I still have an office!"

"They say there's no funding Sir. We're over budget already with everything that's going on."

" _They_ haven't tried hard enough then. Leave it to me Corporal."

"Sir, yes Sir!" he opened the gate, then saluted again as he watched the jeep speed off. "So that's Captain Redfield and Captain Nivans. Awesome!"

"Where are you gonna get the building funding from Babe?"

"From our sponsors. One of the big Pharmaceuticals. _Panfarma_ probably. I know their Finance Director, Allison Bown."

"But they're a business, not a charity. Why would they put in extra money?"

"Because if it's seen as a good PR opportunity, they'll leap at the chance. Especially if they get to sponsor the block and have their name and logo on it"

"But isn't that like selling your soul to the Devil?"

"Dee told me to teach you the 'black arts', remember? That was lesson number one."

"Shall I put it on the to do list? . . . Sell soul."

"Ha! There's something else I've gotta do first. Now put your foot down!"

****************************

Piers braked the jeep to a sharp halt, its large tires sliding on the gravel. There was a frown on his face.

"That's strange. The lights are on."

"You did remember to switch them off before we left?"

Piers rolled his eyes. "We left in daylight!"

"Did we? It seems so long ago. And now here we are back. Safe and sound." Chris was silent for a moment, then, "Mwah!"

"Mmm, nice. What was that for?"

"My way of saying welcome home. Thank you Piers, for everything."

"Mwah. You're welcome. Um, you Ok Babe?"

"Yeah, sure. You go open up, I'll bring the bags."

"Grrr!"

"Chris! You could at least wait till we're inside."

"Huh?"

"Grrrr!!"

"Ruffy? Is that you?"

The young dog, unsure who these two strangers were, sniffed the air cautiously.

Wood scents, gun oil, citrus, musk? Suddenly Ruff's memories came flooding back, forgotten faces fitting the familiar smells.

"Arr-whoo!" Sir Ruffington III came bounding out of the shadows. "Arr-whooooo!"

"Wait! You're not my Ruffy, he's way smaller!" cried Piers.

"Woof?" Ruff caught the tone and and braked his stride, cocking his head to one side; unsure what to do next.

"Heh, heh! Daddy's only kidding. Am I glad to see you! Come here boy! My, how you've grown." Ruff charged and leapt into Piers' open arms.

"Huff, huff!

"Not the hair, not the . . . Oh, what the heck! Mwah! Yeah, I'm pleased to see you too boy! Heh, heh, heh!"

Chris came up to the porch. "Ruffster! How did you get here? You should be with Mary and the kids."

"Arff!"

"That'll be my fault Captain." The quiet, strong voice, respectful as ever, came from inside the open front door.

"Ben? What the . . .?"

"Welcome back Sirs. Rumor control said you were on your way. I thought you'd wanna see Ruff, so I walked him over from the MQs. Got his gear too, it's all inside. Plus the fire's lit and the coffee's on. Oh, and there's a casserole in the oven. Mrs Ellis made it especially."

"Hey soldier, come here for a hug. How can we thank you?"

"Um, get Alpha up and running again Cap? Please?"

"You got it! You gonna stay for some food?"

"No, I don't wanna spoil your, er, homecoming." Ben blushed. "I'd better head back to base."

"Here, take the jeep." Chris threw Ben the keys. "My office, 10:00 tomorrow. Can you make that?"

"Sure, Carl can cover for me. He says Hi by the way."

"What about Andy? Does he say Hi?" But Ben had quickly picked up his empty rucksack and was already heading out of the front door.

"Er, I'll see you tomorrow Cap. Goodnight Sirs,"

"Night Ben, thanks again."

"He left in a hurry."

"Three's a crowd, remember?"

"No, he's hiding something."

"That's not the Ben I know."

"No, it's not. And somehow it involves Andy."

"Plenty of scope there then. Probably involves a woman. I wouldn't worry."

"Yeah, probably. Guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Grrr! Woof!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Ruffster, were we ignoring you?"

"Huff!"

"You wanna wrestle boy?"

"Arr-whooo!"

****************************

"This is becoming a habit."

"I could get used to it."

"That's what happens with habits."

"Ha! Back in our own home. Blankets in front of the hearth. A roaring log fire in the grate, our puppy curled up at our feet. What more could we want?"

"Um, well, three's still a crowd."

"We can't put him outside Piers! Not on our first night."

"I know. He's doing that clingy thing again, have you noticed?"

"What? On my leg?"

"No! I mean he won't leave us alone for a minute."

"It's cos we've been away. He's frightened we'll leave him again. I get the same when you've been away."

"Me too!"

"It's in the family then. Our family."

"You big softy."

"Soft is all you're gonna get tonight Ace. Give him a couple of days and the novelty will wear off."

"As long as that's the only thing that wears off!"

"Ha, ha, very funny! That's good for you."

"No, you're good for me. I know I get too uptight sometimes. I thought you were gonna be as well."

"When?"

"Just as we arrived. You went a bit quiet. I was worried you might be going to have some sort of attack."

"Ain't gonna happen. Not any more. Can't you see Piers? This time was different. We stayed together, we came back together. And I feel Ok, inside my head, despite all the bad things that have happened. I've coped. Why, because you were there, alongside me. You gave me strength. That's why I wanted to say thank you."

"I disobeyed you, I got shot. Some partner I turned out to be."

"We're here Piers. That's what counts. A little older, a little wiser. A few more scars and bruises perhaps, but we're here."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"I'm not planning on leaving, not on my own, not without you, not this time . . ."

****************************

They breakfasted early and took Ruff for a brisk walk. He kept running ahead, then returning to make sure his Dads were still there. "He does twice time the distance we do. Ha!"

"At least."

"Er, can we take him to work today? You know, whilst he's still all clingy?"

"Sure. He'll have to be in your office though. I'm not sure if I've got one."

"I've been thinking about that. You can share mine."

"Oh, are you sure?"

Of course, it'll mean less running around for you. Otherwise you'll be like the Ruffster there, covering twice the distance."

"And doing twice the admin I suppose?"

"Ah, well, no plan is totally perfect. You already do most of it anyway. We can get rid of the day bed, make some more room."

"But you use it!"

"I do not!"

"The snores after lunch tell the lie Babe. Them and the 'Do not disturb' sign."

"Ok then, you go walk the Ruffster after lunch, and then my snores won't disturb you. Deal?"

"We'll see. It might be better if you walked him."

"Why?"

"Because it would give me more time to do your admin."

"But you need me there to sign things, surely?"

"Chris! I've been forging your signature for six years now."

"You have? That would explain a lot."

****************************

Chris called out to the kitchen. "Ace, have you seen the keys to Gill . . er, to my truck?"

"I think they're on the mantel, where you left them."

"Thanks. Hey! Look what else I found!" said Chris, now standing in front of the fireplace.

"Dust? This place needs a good clean. It's filthy! I don't know where it all comes from."

"No, the last leaf, from our cherry tree. Remember?"

"You caught it before it touched the ground. Said it was tempting fate, though you weren't sure why at the time. You any surer now?"

"I think it was because it was something final, and that didn't seem right."

"I didn't have you down as superstitious, you normally make your own luck."

"I didn't want to risk it, risk us, what we've got."

"Well, whatever you wanted, it worked."

"And now it can join the other leaves. C'mon, let's do it now."

Chris and Piers walked down the stairs from their bedroom terrace into the walled garden. Piers groaned at the sight that met them. "Ugh, what a mess. This place needs some work too Babe."

"Put it on the list."

They walked over to the little cherry tree, bare in the cold morning light. "Here we are, we'll let it go together. Three, two, one . . ." They watched the little orange leaf flutter down, joining the others already on the ground. Chris smiled and pulled Piers in close. "There you go little fella. That's winter officially over, _Deuce of Hearts_ style."

"And look, there, a tiny bud, the first." Piers pointed. His keen eyes had spotted the diminutive brown bud, still closed tight against the threat of a spring frost. "The cycle's completed."

"Yeah, renewal. We've got a lot to do today, Ace. Let's get started."

"We'd better make our duty calls first?"

"Yeah, I haven't spoken to Claire in ages. It'll be my fault."

"You have been busy."

"It'll still be my fault. You know Red!"

"She'll understand, send her my love. I'll phone Mom from upstairs."

"Ok, send her a hug from me."

"Roger that!"

****************************

"Hi Red, how you doin?"

"Who is this?"

Me! Chris!"

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"Ha, ha, very funny."

"I had a brother once, sounded just like you, but he used to call me."

"Sorry Kiddo, been kinda busy."

"Tell me about it! TerraSave has never been so active, worldwide. Was that all your doing?"

"Piers and I have been trying to stop it. I can't speak about it over the phone."

"Oh, Piers! How is he, Ok?"

He's fine, sends his love. I'm fine too, thanks for asking."

"Oh you're always fine Bear. I don't worry about you."

"Grrrr!"

"Heh, heh, Ok, just a little bit."

"Where are you?"

"Bolivia."

Bolivia? What are you doin there?"

"Clearing up the mess left by a Lepotitsa attack. Your clean-up guys are good, but they don't fix the people afterwards. Where are you?"

"Piers and I got back home yesterday."

"Ooh! How's the um, ya know? Wink, wink."

"Oh, you mean the sex? Outstanding. Why, only last night, Piers got into the blind missionary position, wearing just his crotchless panties, and I had the feather duster in one hand and the whip in the other. Ha! Don't ask me where the lube was, but the frilly apron was convenient, and . . ."

"Argh, yuk! I don't want all the details Bear!"

"Oh, what a pity! I was gonna' tell you about the handcuffs and choke collar . . .

"STOP! Ok, Ok! I'll never ask you again."

"See? You shouldn't ask people about their sex life. I never ask about yours . . ."

"No, your right I suppose."

". . . Probably cos you don't have one."

"ARGHH!"

"How is it by the way?"

"What?"

"Your sex life."

"CHRISTOPHER . . . !"

  
****************************

"Piers! At last! Are you alright dear?"

"Hi Mom, yeah, I'm fine, you?"

"Lonely, worried sick. Wondering where all my boys are. It's been a while Son. Christmas, the New Year, and not a word. At least Tim rang Christmas Day. But you and Adam, nothing, not even a card. What have you been doing?"

"I'm so sorry, Chris and I have been busy."

"I realize that. Where?"

"Oh, um, here and there, you know."

"You can't tell me can you?"

"No."

"Just as well that nice lady Colonel of yours has been keeping me informed then."

Colonel Valentine!

"Yes, that's the one. She rang once a week to tell me you and Christopher were safe."

"Oh, that was nice of her."

"Wasn't it? At least someone was thinking of me."

"You're always in my thoughts, you know that."

"Have you both been involved in this global outbreak that's been on the news?"

"Mom, you know better than to ask!"

"Hmm, I thought so. I'm so proud you Piers. I hope the BSAA appreciate you as much as I do."

"It's a team effort Mom, no one's better than anyone else."

"Even your man?"

"Ok, with one exception. Heh, heh."

"I don't suppose you've heard anything from Adam during your travels?"

"No Mom, not a thing . . . but I'm sure he's Ok. I can sense it."

"Yes, me too. You would tell me son, if you knew anything?"

"You'll be the first to know Mom, I promise."

"Alright dear. Now, will I see you both soon? Or do I have to come to you?"

"There's a lot for Chris and me to catch up with here first. Give us a few weeks, alright?"

"Alright son, I'll hold you to that. Now you get busy doing whatever, and give Christopher's butt a pat from me."

"A pat?"

"I said a hug Piers, quite clearly!"

"Ok Mom, whatever, he, he! Oh, and say 'Hi' to Lucy for me will you?"

"And what about your father?"

"He knows where I am. Sorry, I gotta go now or we'll be late for work. Love you, bye."

Piers put his cell down with a heavy heart. He hated lying to his mother, but at the moment he had no alternative. Adam was on his 'to do' list, but Chris took precedence. Adam Nivans had made his choices. And for now, he would have to take his chances.

****************************

Later that morning, Piers and Ben Airhart were sat with Chris in his office. They were discussing the reforming of Alpha Team. The trouble was, a part of it was missing.

"He's what!" Piers rolled his eyes in disbelief and annoyance.

"AWOL Captain. Came back from Bravo's last Op and then simply disappeared."

"Well, he'd be due post-combat furlough." said Chris.

"That's the thing Cap. No one's been taking it. Not during the upsurge, not even Andy. Until now. Personnel have been rotating through Echo team. So we've all seen action and then done a stint of instruction to wind down, before going back on ops again."

"OK, assuming he's taken some leave, and forgotten or mislaid the paperwork, which wouldn't be unusual for him, when would he be due back?"

"Two days Cap."

"Then let's wait until then before we do anything else. Andy's no angel, but I don't see him going AWOL. Anything else Ben?"

"No . . . Oh, just one thing."

"Name it."

"Um, Finn and Danny have been asking after you."

"Yeah, we were gonna see them today. I guess we'll need to find replacements for them too if we're gonna get Alpha back up and running."

"Uh, yeah I suppose so." The prospect made Ben sad, although he knew Chris was right. Listen Cap, there's a lot of combat injured in the hospital too. It would mean so much if you could visit them as well. Both of you. "

"Sorta moral booster?"

"Yes."

"Have there been losses?"

Ben looked down uneasily. "Yes Cap." he said quietly

"Damnit! Who?"

"There's a listing on the NAB intranet. All personnel injured and the, um . . ."

"Chris, please, don't get upset."

"I'm not upset Ace, I'm angry. Ok, consider it done Ben. Thanks for telling me. I was told Command had things under control. Seems they neglected to tell me everything."

"Oh, Command have handled the combat operations really well Sir. No one seemed to know where you were, let alone when you were coming back." Ben knew better than to ask himself. Captain Redfield would tell them if he could. "They had their own priorities I guess."

"Thanks Ben, that's all for now. Dismiss!"

"Sirs." Ben saluted crisply and left the room.

Piers looked at his partner. "You know something don't you? About Andy. You didn't seem too concerned."

"Didn't he tell you? That last time we had a party at the _Deuce of Hearts_ , when Danny joined Alpha?"  
  


Piers shook his head. "No."

"Damn! I told him to speak to you specifically."

"Let me guess, girl trouble?"

"More like husband trouble."

"What!"

"He's been seeing a married woman."

"Ah, that makes more sense. Is it serious?"

"As in he may be the father of her kids serious."

"Why am I not surprised! What's the plan? Alert the MPs?"

"Not yet. Let's leave it for now. Give him some time, like I said. We've got higher priorities right now."

"So, the hospital next?"

"No, let me speak to Allison Bown first, get the ball rolling on that one."

"Then the hospital?"

"Damn right! And we'll take the Ruffster. Therapy dogs are all the rage now so I hear."

"I'll give Major Simms a call, just to clear the way."

"Don't bother. Just take some donuts and Eric will be your friend for life. Tell you what, get donuts for everyone, put it on my tab."

"I'm right on it!"

****************************

Their visit was a big success. Despite his deep seated dislike of hospitals, Chris put on a smile together with his Captain Redfield persona. He and Piers had words of comfort and praise for everyone they met, staff and patients alike.

Their arrival was greeted with cheers and whistles, followed by a barrage of questions and affectionate banter. And Ruff was indeed a big hit.

". . . Is he gonna be on Alpha Team Captain?'

"He _is_ the new Captain, ha, ha!"

"See Eric, laughter, the best medicine."

"And donuts, they have amazing healing powers."

"You should write a treatise Doc."

"I keep eating the evidence old boy!

"How we doing Sir? Have we beaten them yet?"

"Damn right we have!"

"Could you let my Ma and Pa know I'm Ok Cap? I can't hold a phone with these bandages."

"Sure, what's their number?"

"Our emergency blood stocks are getting low again Captain Nivans."

"I'll organize a donor session with the SOUs and Air Wing. What else do you need?"

"Um, what's with the bruises and the limp Caps? You two fallen out?"

"Yeah, tell us Cap, where've you been?"

"We've missed you Sirs." A man raised a bandaged stump where his right hand had once been.

Chris shook the man's remaining hand. "Gah, Piers and I have missed you too soldier. . ."

Finally, Chris had to put up his arms for a moments quiet in the ward. "Don't worry, no speech. I just wanna say, from Piers and me, you guys, you're inspirational!"

"Back at ya Cap!"

"Three Hooahs for the Captains . . . **Hooah, Hooah, Hooah!** "

****************************

Although no longer in the ICU, Danny remained under close observation after his surgery. His bed was in a small side room. And alongside his cot was his partners. Finn was walking now, with the aid of crutches. But he never strayed far from Dan's side.

"Here that Dan? Something's going on out there. I wonder what?"

"Sounds like they're having a party in the main ward. Must be some good news, go find out Finny."

But just as Finn went to get up from his chair, Nurse Branna entered the room.

"Oh, boys, you won't believe it!"

"Believe what?"

"Captain Redfield and Captain Nivans are here. They're handing out donuts! Isn't it exciting? Oh, and Captain Redfield is covered in bruises and Captain Nivans has got a limp. He's trying to hide it, but you can't fool a trained eye. Now, let me smarten you up Danny, before they visit."

"Cap'in, here? Do you here that Dan? Oh, let me do that Branna. Could you find another chair please? Surely, Captain Piers will need to be sitting."

"A limp!" Danny sounded concerned. "I don't like the sound of that Finny Piers is, well, the Ace. He never gets injured."

"Hush now Dan, I'm sure . . . Oh, would you look who it is." There was a sniff at the door, then a joyous bark. Ruff had found his other Dads.

"Ar-whoo!"

"Heh, heh, steady boy, watch that tail. You'll have me over!"

"Arff!"

"Yes, here he is, you can lick his hand, but don't jump up!"

Danny dropped his hand over the side of the bed. "Hi there Ruffy, my, you've grown."

"Hey, there you are. Are you a sight for sore eyes! Ruff led us straight here. Come here rookie. Oh, probably better if I come to you. Ha!" Chris hugged Finn as gently as he could. "Oh Finn, how I've missed you and that silly grin."

"Oh, Cap'in, sniff, not as much as I've missed you."

"Hey Ruff, it's my turn!" Piers took Dan's hand and smiled. "Still wearing that shemagh soldier?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Oh Dan!" Piers lent down and kissed Danny's head.

"I've missed you Sir." Dan whispered in Piers' ear.

"Hey, no tears, you'll get me going. Think of my image!"

"He, he, I think of it all the time. Um, when I'm not thinking of Finn's of course . . . !"

****************************

Chris and Piers were not the only ones with a 'to do' list. Whilst they inspired the wounded in Williamsport; Director Dee was feeling less inspired by his meeting with the President in the White House. It was an 'unrecorded' meeting, no aides, just the two of them.

The lined face before him smiled, but it couldn't hide the tiredness behind the dark brown eyes.

"We're going to loose Dee, the Democrats."

"Ahem, the BSAA is not political Mr President."

"Dammit Dee! It's run by the UN, and it's headquartered here, in Washington DC. How can that not be political?"

"You know what I mean Sir. National politics."

"We're both too old to play semantics Dee. Alright, I'm telling you as my friend, how's that?"

"I'm honored Mr President."

"He, he, cut the flattery Dee. What's more important is whether you believe me or not."

"Talking, as a friend, I think you're right. Talking as the Director of the NAB, I might say what has this to do with me?"

"Hmm, do you tweet Dee?"

"I gave up bird impressions many years ago Sir. There were enough headless chickens running around Washington after Vietnam without me adding to their numbers."

"Ha! I'm gonna miss you when I'm gone. I meant ,of course, do you use twitter, use social media?"

"I believe politics and diplomacy are best conducted faced to face, with iron fists in gloved hands, not on a computer screen."

"Then you won't have seen this." the President turned a laptop towards the Director. Dee wiped his eyes, put on his glasses, then peered closely at the screen."

**Donald J. Trump**

**@realDonaldTrump Twitter**

**The United Nations BSAA has done some good work, but America can do it better. We're gonna be looking at ways to do that. Expect great things, We put a lot of American taxpayers dollars into the United Nations. I don't think we get good value for money. Its gonna change. #trump2016 #makeamericagreatagain #americafirst**

Dee removed his glasses slowly. "Oh my God!" he murmured.

"Exactly. I won't be able to help you Dee. And you're going to need help, to survive. Take my advice. Get your replacement in position before it's too late. Protect your legacy, protect the NAB Dee. For all our sakes."

"Do you have a preference for the position Mr President."

"The best person for the job, naturally."

"Of course. But what else? You have obviously given this some serious consideration."

"Not a politician, nor a diplomat. He doesn't trust them."

"That rather limits the field Mr President."

"A military man. He likes the military. Someone like Chris Redfield perhaps?"

"Hmm, perhaps. Let me think about it."

"Don't take too long Dee, time's running out. I'm gonna be a lame duck soon, I won't be able to help you for much longer."

"And the tweeting headless chickens will return to rule the roost"

"He, he, I might use that one in my next speech."

"And what about you Mr President? What of your legacy?"

The president shrugged his shoulders. "If it's the will of the people, so be it. That's Democracy for you."

"The NAB will not be the only organization to be affected. The DSO for instance. Will they become just another bunch assassins? Like young Adam Nivans for example?"

"You knew about him?"

"I've had my suspicions. You just confirmed it."

"You old fox! It's not what it seems Dee. I had to take out my own insurance. Against threats from within the establishment as well as outside. He's embedded, deep cover."

"The Family?"

"Yes. Democrats and Republicans may play swings and merry-go-rounds. But the Family run the Fair Ground. Your man, Piers Nivans, his brother. He must never be told."

"He will find out. He is persistence personified."

"That's different." The President stood and offered Dee his hand, the meeting was over. "Sort out your line of succession Dee. And do it quickly."

"As you wish, Mr President, as you wish."


	6. Lines of Succession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their second mission to Edonia completed, Chris and Piers begin to pick up the pieces back at the BSAA’s Williamsport Base. Even the President lends a hand. Meanwhile, Director Dee of the NAB ensures his succession, as everyone looks to the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Pierian Spring, and hence also the end of my 'Seasons' tetralogy, which started way back in August 2015 with the first chapter of 'Summer Days, Summer Nights'. Although I didn't plan it as a four-parter initially, it just grew into one. Anywho, I apologise for the delay, but if you've stuck with it, thank you very much. Nimrod.
> 
> My special thanks to Theosymphany and RedfieldandNivans for the use of their characters throughout the ‘year’. Check out their Nivanfield writing here on AO3.

"No, and that's final! You know I don't do all that hero shit . . . !"

Seated on the other side of the desk, Piers' jaw dropped. This was Chris on the phone with a friend, a powerful one. Not for the first time since he'd started sharing Chris' office, he wished he could simply disappear, like a sniper.

". . . Huh? No, you'll just have to find another name . . . I don't know. How bout Panfarma House? The Bown Block . . . Ha! The Bown Building then? See? It's not so easy when the boot's on the other foot . . . Sorry, Jimmy Choo's, whatever! Hmm, uh-huh . . . Ok Allison, thanks a million . . . Alright, three . . . Yeah, I will. I'll get our best brains on it . . . Ouch! We do have some you know, it's not all just a muscle show . . . Allison, really! Behave! . . . Bye, love you too!"

Chris put the phone down and grinned broadly. "That was Allison Bown. Ha!"

Piers rolled his eyes. "You don't say! The nice lady you were supposed to be getting the money from to rebuild the Corporal's block."

"Don't sweat it Ace. The money's in the bag, three million."

"Why all the attitude then?"

"What attitude? That was me being foxy! Sometimes Piers . . ." Chris shook his head in bewilderment. So did Piers.

Chris continued. ". . . No, what we don't have is a name. They wanted to call it the Captain Redfield building. Can you imagine? Ugh!"

"Quite."

"Hey!"

"The 'Captain Redfield' building, fashioned from hand-carved boulders. It does have a certain ring to it."

"Oi! You're meant to be helping me."

"Well, I can't imagine the Corporals want to live in a 'Captain' building, or a 'Sergeant' one come to that. So, ditch the rank thing for a start."

"Ok, I can see that."

"But I like the idea of a hero. Someone part of the NAB's history here. Someone who represents our ideals, our esprit de corps."

"Ok, the Piers Nivans block it is."

"What? Have you been listening Bear?"

"Just teasin. I mean, I'd call it that like a shot, but I'm not sure the rookies would agree."

"Hilarious! Hmm . . . Got it! We call it the Robin Ellis building. What do you think?"

"I think I should have thought of that myself. Oh Piers, thank you. That's, gah, that's absolutely perfect." Chris felt himself tearing-up. He reached over the desk and patted Piers' hand. "Mary will be so proud . . . Um, you don't think it's too soon do you?"

"It's never too soon to celebrate a hero Chris. History has an unfortunate habit of forgetting them."

"Then I'll run it past Mary straightaway." Chris stood up. "You coming with?"

"Sure. Just promise me you'll tell her it was your idea."

"Why?"

"Because you're her kid's hero. Not me. They look up to you."

"But what about you?"

"No problem. You're my hero too."

****************************

The dark green Range Rover negotiated the chicanes of concrete blocks and barriers carefully. Threading its way slowly around the various obstacles until it joined the afternoon Washington traffic. Mike Lugano scanned the cars behind with a practised eye. He also scanned the sole occupant in the back, sitting with his eyes closed, an unread file on his lap.

Mike frowned. "You Ok Boss?"

"I'm thinking, Michael."

"A problem shared is a problem halved."

"Why, Michael! That sounds just like one of dear Christopher's aphorisms."

"I might agree if I knew what that meant."

"Oh, and another! How delightful. What brings on this unexpected concern?"

"You need looking after Boss. More than ever since your operation. Just doin my job."

"But for how much longer I wonder?" Dee replied, more to himself.

"Boss?"

"Pay no attention to me Michael. It's just the musings of an old man. The President thinks . . . No, never mind what he thinks."

"Ok, whatever you say."

There was an uncomfortable moments silence.

"That was meant to be your lead-in Michael."

"To what?"

"To you asking me what the President thinks."

"You'd tell me if it's important."

"Perhaps I should ask you."

"Then ask already! "The suspense ain't killin me, but it sure seems to be buggin you!"

"Hmm. Very well then Michael. Now, I ask you this not only as your employer, but as your friend. How did Gillian find being Director in my absence? Did she relish the task would you say? Enough to make it more permanent perhaps?"

"I'd say you should ask her."

"Tch! I'm perfectly aware of your relationship."

"We haven't tried to hide it!"

"But neither have you gone public."

"I'll level with you Boss. Jill and I have seen how you've manipulated Captain Redfield and Captain Nivans. We don't want that happening to us."

"You know perfectly well that was different. I merely took advantage of an existing situation, for the good of us all. Your relationship with Gillian came as something of a surprise to me.

"You disapprove?"

"What! Dear Michael, why should I disapprove? I am happy for you both. I do not recommend loneliness in high office. You have been my rock, and you have been Gillian's too, of late. But this is an important question. I am asking on behalf of the President. Do you think dear Gillian would take over the reigns from me, and soon? And before you ask, no, I'm not dying."

"I'm glad to hear it!"

"And?"

"And no. Jill wouldn't want to take over from you on a permanent basis. She, we . . . we want kids Dee, a family, ya know? Time's not on our side."

"I understand, only too well. In which case, may I wish you every success. You both deserve it."

"Thanks Boss. So, no pressure then?"

"No, it was the answer I expected. However, I would like to live long enough to celebrate the birth, dear boy."

"Ha! I'll see what I can do. It's not as if we haven't been try . . . Um, forget I said that!"

****************************

"Camp Pendleton! What the hell's he doing there?" Piers' eyes flashed in anger.

"He's in jail. For assault and battery." replied Chris, calmly.

"Oh my God!"

"It gets even better. The Marine he assaulted and battered is in hospital."

"Jeez! Andy's done it this time. What are you gonna do?"

"Well, I could let things take their course. An article 32 investigation, probably leading to a General Courts-Martial, in which case Andy's sunk . . ."

"Or?

". . . Or I phone the President."

"Really?"

"Well, the way I see it, I'm in charge of Andy, and the President's in charge of the US Marine Corps, right? I'm sure we can work something out."

"Isn't that using a sledgehammer to crack a nut?"

"Oh no. That's what happens when I get Andy back here, with two sledgehammers!"

"Why two? Oh, yeah . . . ouch!"

****************************

Dee had arranged a video conference of all the BSAA's Branch Directors. Mike Lugano had scheduled it specifically for 10am on Tuesday.

"Why then in particular?" Dee had asked. "You seemed most insistent with the other aides."

"I read somewhere it was the best time and day for an international conference. Time zones and stuff."

"Impressive my dear Michael."

"Hey, I'm a Marine! Impressive is all we do."

"Ha, ha, quite. The lines are all secure?"

"Of course."

Dee took a couple of deep breaths with his inhaler . . . puff, puff. "Then let us begin."

As soon as the formal greetings were out of the way, he began his address to the meeting in earnest.

"Ladies, gentlemen. Thank you for agreeing to this video conference, and for your valuable time. Miss Alomar, a special welcome, your first time as Director. May I say the West African Branch has made an excellent choice . . ." there was a buzz of approval and Sheva blushed. Dee continued. ". . . The BSAA needs new blood. That's what this session is all about. Now, to business. I take it you have all read my letter?" The faces on the screens before him nodded. "Good. There is only one topic on the agenda. The preservation of the North American Branch, and potentially, the BSAA itself. We are facing a new threat my friends. Not from BOWs, not from Zombies, not this time. This time the foe will be even harder to defeat. And if all that sounds a little melodramatic, do not be fooled. This time out foe is the very basis of our society; Democracy . . ."

A voice interrupted. It was General Urquhart, head of the BSAA and Director Headquarters and Europe. "With the greatest respect Dee, why should this matter concern any of us? The choice of your successor is an internal matter for the NAB, surely? Can you not find agreement with Mexico and Canada?"

"I have to agree with the General. This is purely an internal administrative issue. How does it affect the future of the BSAA?" It was Major General Mikhail Zaitsev, director of the recently formed Russian Branch, and keen to make his mark.

But Dee had expected such reactions, and calmly pushed a key on his keyboard. "Because of this." The campaign tweet appeared simultaneously on everyone's screens. Dee gave them a moment to digest the contents.

"It's just words, electioneering. This sort of posturing has no significance. The contest has not yet been decided."

"Eh, Mikhail, I thought you of all people would already know the result, given the recent press revelations. Heh, Heh!" The head of the South American Branch laughed.

"My Government categorically denies any interference in the electoral . . ."

"Enough!" Dee brought his fists down on his desk. "I called you together for a show of unity, not petty squabbles! Don't you understand? If our struggles recently prove to be the success we all wish for, the first thing our primary sponsors will seek is a peace dividend."

"What do you mean Dee?"

"I mean they will put the interests of their shareholders above ours. That in turn will mean reduced funding. That will be the signal here for the United States to pull out entirely. Even the current administration has a fractious relationship with the UN. A political change here will only worsen that. I need to protect my legacy, the NAB. I do not need your permission, but I would like you all to formally endorse my successor."

"Colonel Valentine? She has acquitted herself well in your absence Dee."

"She has indeed Sheva. But Gillian has other plans. No, the person I propose is young. Younger even than you my dear Sheva. He has no political or diplomatic experience to speak of . . ."

"Then why chose him? Why not pick Redfield?"

"He'd get my support."

"And mine. He's a founder."

"Yes, but he's been prone to instability. Could he handle the pressure?"

Dee interrupted the discussion. ". . . Christopher is my choice for Director of Operations. I said earlier the BSAA needs new blood. Someone to carry us forward into unchartered waters. Someone who will bring a powerful intellect, an unrelenting perseverance, and above all, someone who will put our cause above any self interest . . ."

"You're talking about Piers . . ."

Dee smiled. "Yes Miss Alomar, I am."

"Then you have chosen wisely Dee. You have the full support of the West African Branch."

"And that of the Far East Branch. We will never forget his work during the Marhawa incident."

"That goes for Oceania too."

"Si, and South America."

"He's Gay!" said Zaitsev disparagingly.

Dee remained calm. "What of it? So am I. He is simply the best man for the job. His sexuality is not my concern, neither should it be your's Mikhail."

"There have been rumours, since China, that he is somehow different, a mutant perhaps?"

"You don't become gay from a virus Mikhail." Dee spoke gently, as if to a child. "We all carry viruses my friend. Some are safe for their hosts, yet deadly to others. But here we all are, carrying on our lives as normal. Apparently happy to live with the dangers." There were murmurs of agreement from the other Directors. Dee had deftly avoided answering the the actual question.

The head of the BSAA, spoke. "I think the matter before us is clear enough. I trust Dee's political instincts, as I trust his judgement. Headquarters and Europe endorse his choice."

The other Directors formally agreed in turn, until only Major General Zaitsev remained.

"Well Zaitsev? It would be good for the BSAA to at least appear unanimous, don't you agree?"

"I do General Urquhart. But I will not sign anything. Neither do I wish this conference to set a precedent. As the representative of the Russian Federation I must . . ."

"Yes or no?"

. . .

"You may all find yourselves in a similar position to the NAB in the future. The NAB will remember its friends." Dee said ominously. "Mikhail?"

The heavy set General shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "Alright . . . Da, yes."

Dee heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you. All of you. Then I shall proceed accordingly."

"When will you make the announcement Dee?"

"My term ends in January. I will make it at the appropriate time, and not before."

"Very well. Your proposal is fully endorsed, the timing to be at your discretion. Thank you Dee, everyone." General Urquhart nodded. "This meeting is now closed."

One by one the screens before him went blank. Dee sat back in his chair and smiled triumphantly.

"That seemed to go well dear Michael."

"Hmm, and just when are you going to tell Captain Nivans?"

"That's a very good question Michael."

"And?"

"And to be honest dear boy, I don't know . . ."

****************************

As it happened, there was no need for Chris to phone the President. The President phoned Chris.

"Captain Redfield, welcome back. Outstanding! I want to see the two of you here in the White House, ASAP . . ."

Barack Obama was sat at the ornately carved, red leather topped desk. The red drapes and striped cream wallpaper of the Oval Office gave added height to the room, and to the man behind the desk. He stood up immediately as the Marine Sergeant showed Chris and Piers in, and stretched out his right hand in a warm greeting.

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming at such short notice. There has been a certain amount of, um, fallout, from your successful completion of Operation Sword and Shield. I've been busy dealing with the flak."

Chris and Piers shook his hand in turn. "It's an honor, Mr President."

"No formality Chris. And the honor is mine. Please, sit down." He gestured towards the two cane-backed chairs positioned in front of the desk. "I want us to talk freely . . ."

". . . It went against the grain to order the use of a nuclear weapon. I can only imagine what it was like to have to physically carry that order out. Dee tells me you are both men of principle. It must have been tough."

Chris scratched the back of his neck nervously. "It was . . ." he began, then paused, unsure what to say next.

". . . all a question of teamwork." said Piers, coming to Chris' aid.

"Dee realized that from the start, even if I didn't. Having read his final report, I know better now."

Piers was keen to draw the conversation away from Chris and himself. "Sir, have you heard anything about the Royal Air Force crew? It was tough for them too. Most of them were just kids."

"I understand they have been invited by Prime Minister Cameron to a private reception. Alas, their part in Operation Sword and Shield will have to remain secret, as will yours. Once again, an ignorant world is in your debt. I wish there was some way I could show its appreciation."

Chris scratched his neck once again and blushed. "Well Mr President, there is one small thing . . ."

Piers face palmed. "Chris, you're not meant to actually ask him! It's a rhetorical question . . ."

"A what?"

The President laughed. "Heh, heh. Let me be the judge of that Piers. Don't worry Chris, go ahead, shoot."

"The problem is Sir, I have a Sergeant, Andy Walker He's my Senior Sergeant, on Alpha Team. You met him at the Deuce of Hearts when you visited last year. Now we're back, Piers and I are trying to get the team up and running again. Well, at the moment Andy's sitting in a jail in Camp Pendleton; facing a charge of assault and battery."

"And why exactly is that Chris?" enquired the President, raising an eyebrow.

"Long story short, he found the Marine who was mistreating a former partner. There was an altercation. Said partner is the mother of two kids. Andy only recently found out he's actually the kid's father. He want's to do the decent thing and marry the lady in question. And she wants to marry him. Her, um, relationship with this Marine is a cluster fu . . . I mean its broken."

"And what does the Marine have to say?"

"Not a lot at the moment, his jaw's wired-up."

"Heh, heh, heh! Ahem, I'm sorry, guys, as the Marine Corps CinC I shouldn't be laughing, but as the President, that's the funniest line I've heard all week . . . wired-up, heh, heh!"

Barack Obama grinned broadly. "Well Chris, it so happens you're in luck. A certain Consul in a certain European country let it be known to the State Department that the timely advice of certain BSAA operatives avoided a potentially life threatening situation. And in fact, led to the safe and orderly evacuation of said Consul and his staff, including a number of Marines. That word got to ear of the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Robert Neller. He said, and I quote. 'The Corps owes those guys.' So, the way I see it, one good turn deserves another. I’ll get him to look in to it."

The President pushed a button on his intercom pad. "Is General Neller still here? Good. I'd like to see him straightaway please. No, tell him to come straight in."

Chris turned to Piers and grinned. "See Ace? All you gotta' do is ask."

The President looked at them both. "Is that it?"

"Um, well Mr President, we're getting the Corporal's accommodation block rebuilt back at Williamsport. The one that was blown up. I've got the finances sorted out, from our sponsors. But technically the Federal Government remains our landlord. There's a pile of legal stuff I don't understand. It would be nice to, er, speed up, the paperwork. If you get my drift? A few rubber stamps and such."

"Good job! Consider it done Chris."

"Anything else?"

"No! Er, no, Mr President, Chris doesn't have anything else . . ." Piers looked keenly at his partner. ". . . Do you!"

Epilogs

And with that meeting in the Oval Office, Operations Sword and Shield officially came to a end. The ramifications of its successful conclusion would rumble on within political and diplomatic circles for months. However, its effect on the ground, in the BSAA's war against Bioterrorism, were quickly felt. The global attacks at first faltered, and then quickly petered out. The SOUs returned home as the clean-up teams and TerraSave set about their work.

But whilst life for many gradually returned to normal, for some, their experiences of that winter would last longer, a lifetime.

In the summer of 2016, Ivan Slotic married Niko Nikolayavič. Their wedding reception was held in a newly refurbished, and renamed, nightclub. As promised, Ivan had named the club "The Hole in the Wall". And the 'hole' that Chris Redfield had punched in a wall there, took pride of place in a frame above the bar. Sadly, Chris and Piers couldn't be present, as Piers' father was in hospital, but a young shepherd was. One Goran Slotic.

The last time they'd spoken, Chris had asked Goran what he'd been up to since returning to Edonia.

"I'm back with the sheep in the mountains, listening to my music. Old Milo has retired now. My family has taken over his flock and land. It is very hard work, but it makes us much more secure. Do you remember the puppy you and Captain Piers got him? Pravi? Well, he has a partner now, another pup. I've named him Krsta, after you."

"I'm honored."

"He reminds me of you, Captain Chris. He's got shaggy dark brown fur."

"Ha, ha!"

"Already, everything that we did seems like a fantastic dream now. I have to pinch myself sometimes, to remind me that it actually happened. Is that usual Captain?"

"Oh yeah, I get that all the time. Remember, we couldn't have done it without you Kiddo. I hope your folks are proud of you. How are they?"

"They're fine. Mama keeps hugging me, as if I might not be real. And my sister's are not so mean any more."

"It's because they respect you. Have you told them everything?"

"No, not everything. Except for my father. I told him what I, what we, did. I said it was for him, because he couldn't do it when he was young."

"Good man . . . !"

Although disappointed that Goran had not joined him in the Edonian Intelligence Agency, Alex Nedovic remained a close friend, and gave Goran Piers' old jeep, Hristofor. Alex would visit the Slotic family farm in the mountains north of Kaponik many times. It was where he found peace of mind, and acceptance of his brother's death. Eventually he would succeed his Chief in the Agency, and Ana would become his most trusted deputy.

General Henshaw of the 160th SOAR, US Army, was found dead from a fatal gun wound in his quarters at Bezmer airbase, Bulgaria. It was assumed he had committed suicide, rather than face trial for the only crime defined in the American Constitution, treason. However, Adam Nivans knows differently.

Lieutenant 'Shotgun' Andrews and his Stealth Hawk team elected to accept their CinC's punishment rather than face a Courts Martial. Based on Chris' positive testimonial, the President ordered they should all be reduced in rank with commensurate losses in pay, privileges and seniority, but allowed to remain in the service.

The body of Pierre Girot was never found in the tunnels below the Majda Minerals facility in Zajec. He is officially listed as 'missing' and his BSAA file remains open.

On February 15th, 2016, Sherry Birkin gave birth to a healthy 7lb baby girl. Tim Nivans did as he promised, and was in attendance throughout. He told Piers it was the most awesome thing he'd ever seen, though Sherry said it didn't feel quite so awesome at the time! Sherry named the baby Hope. She and Tim haven't named the day yet, but they're working on it. And yes, Sherry named Chris as the Godfather. Naturally Claire Redfield was Hope's Godmother, along with Ingrid Hannigan.

Andy Walker returned to Alpha in mid-January 2016, none the worse for his incarceration in Camp Pendleton. He married Rosa in October the same year, and claims that fatherhood has made him a reformed character. Both Rosa and Piers are watching him closely to make sure he stays that way.

Jill Valentine returned to her role as Operations Director when Dee returned as Director, NAB. In January 2017, with the change in Federal Administration, they both stood down. Jill announced her pregnancy at the same time as she announced her retirement from active duty. She and Mike Lugano plan a Spring wedding.

Finn Macauley returned operationally to the newly re-formed Alpha Team in February 2016, but he continually fretted over Danny Svenson's recovery. In the late summer, they both began medical studies in the BSAA; remaining as non-operational members of the team. They were replaced by new recruits, Rick Harrison and Raúl Fonseca.

Mary Ellis and her children, Robbie Jr and Becky, slowly rebuilt their shattered lives. They officially opened the Robin Ellis Building in 2017, and found it gave them a sense of closure.

And as for Chris and Piers? They busied themselves about the Williamsport Base. Chris re-building both the fabric, and spirit, of his BSAA 'family', whilst Piers restarted his Cerberus Combat Training Program. The bond they had renewed as Sword and Shield grew ever stronger. With Piers help, Chris found his 'dark moods' became less and less frequent. And Chris reciprocated, giving Piers the advice and encouragement he needed to grow into his status as a Captain.

Back in Washington, Dee chose not to tell Chris or Piers of their new positions as Director Ops and Director NAB. leaving it until Christmas day. He decided that the less time they had to think about it, the more chance they would accept. But that's another story. Several in fact!

**Author's Note:**

> Tim Nivans is the creation of @theosymphany, My thanks Theo, your boy’s doing good!


End file.
